


The Tempest

by Aulani



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Branding, Developing Relationship, Dream Sex, F/M, G'raha is adorable I just can't even, Healthy Relationships, Help I have no idea what I'm doing, I'm really just a hopeless romantic, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmates, This Is Fine, Touch-Starved, What Have I Done, jealous Exarch, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 52,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aulani/pseuds/Aulani
Summary: His name was mumbled on her lips as she slipped off into restless sleep. For this was his tower. And yet he was lost to her. As lost as the day she sobbed his name into crystal and the unbreakable fortress of glass. When she’d let him go because she understood…and yet, knowing she would never be the same. The taste of him on her mouth was both bliss and ash. Desperate to feel it again.And that night…she dreamed of him.Hot. Everything was so hot. She wondered if she might burn alive, the pyre a welling rush from inside her breast. His mouth was everywhere. Pressing kisses to places no one else had ever touched. Her name a whispered prayer through his lips. His fingers tangling in her long hair.“…I’ve missed you,” he breathed. Leaning over her to puff the words over her swollen lips. “Wicked White, how I’ve missed you so much…”-
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 78
Kudos: 197
Collections: Final Fantasy XIV - Crystal Exarch x WoL Recommendations





	1. What's Past is Prologue

“ _What’s past is prologue.” – William Shakespeare, The Tempest_

_The Future is where my destiny awaits._

“G’raha _Tia!_ If I’ve told you once, I am sure to tell you a hundred times! No literature, or scrolls, parchment, or tomes for that matter, _out of the Hall!”_

He toppled, for if the shout could give way to hands and fingers, the Seeker would have been resoundingly pulled from the tree. Smacked along each branch on his undignified flight just to prove the point. But, as it were he regained balance quickly. Tail curled outwards for such an occasion. Fingers dug into bark and wood. The leaves rustled with his jostle, cackled sounds to snicker at his unfortunate discovery. Flickers of smiling emerald faces in the spatters of dappled sunlight. He tried not to laugh himself. The intimidating glare she was trying to stare up at him, from the waiting position near the roots, was one with furrowed brows and a decidedly serious expression.

But, to have a cherub like visage glare at you? Made for an amusing start to his morning.

“Forgive me Krile,” he said closing the tome and unable to keep the half smile from tugging at a corner. Lost cause when she began a slow tap of her foot. “But, look at the morning! How do you expect me to sit inside when the day promises to unfold as this? You could join me up here if you like. Tis plenty of room, and the oak I promise is sound of foot.”

Krile huffed. Watching his cherry colored head bob among leaves. It was hard to keep hold of her frustration when he was as bright as the breaking sun. Morning light caught in his teeth. A teasing smile that bespoke of his charm.

“You expect me…to climb that tree? G’raha Tia, I think I shall pass.”

“I could lift you up.”

“I would sooner trust a Morbol to sell me perfume,” she retorted quickly. Crossing arms and softly pressing a foot against the edge of that massive trunk. Solid and speaking of ages where it had guarded as sentinel, the oak merely whispered in the breeze. Lifting G’raha’s curious voice back down to where she waited.

It really was a beautiful day.

“What is it Krile?” he asked and tilted his head at her silence. Taking a crouch along the branch, the offending and wayward book was tucked under his arm. “I was expecting half into a full lecture by now, and yet you are strangely melancholy for catching me unaware. Did something…happen? Did Ejika say something uncouth to you again? I swear by the gods that man is nothing but a sour…”

“Yes. _I mean_ , no. No, Ejika said nothing. Well, Ejika is always saying _something,_ but that’s not…”

She sighed and lifted up her chin. Meeting his troubled stare. The glinting of his eyes was still caught among shade and frond. Bright. Jewels from a treasure trove kept secret in the bellows of a hollowed tree.

One cyan. And one red. Red as sanguine. As blood and wine spilled on the floor.

“Krile?”

He was worried now, if his voice was anything to his inward reflection. The Lalafell silently cursed herself for being so hesitant. So pensive. There was little cause for such concern. Worry was baseless. Soundless. Sand through fingers. She shoved her anxiousness quickly to the back of her mind. Where it waited in a dark corner like a spider.

He would be alright…she told herself. His aether was rich and radiant.

Besides, He would be elated.

“Grandfather wants to speak with you,” she replied at last. A smiled forced to her mouth. His ears flickered suddenly. Pressed to his head then rounded forward. Raised brows and lips parting in surprise. Whatever he had been expecting…it was not this.

G’raha jumped down from the tree. Effortless and smooth. Poise of all the feline grace that came as natural as breathing. Tail twitching behind, a reflection of his own inquisitiveness and hesitation at such a revilement. Strands of lean muscles pulled and loosened under his tunic. Krile grumbled at the ease of his acrobatics. Proud of her intellectual accomplishments and articulate (G’raha would call it verbose, with a teasing grin) discernment of aether; there was still something to be appreciated about physical prowess.

“What is the reason?” he wondered with soft pause. Chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment. “Other than this offense of misplaced library books, it has been some time since I played any such manner of harmless prank. Master Galuf hasn’t wished to see me since…”

Realization broke upon G’raha Tia like a wave and Krile’s predictions came shockingly quick into fruition. His sudden excitement was almost infectious, if she still wasn’t grappling with an ever yawning sense of dread in the clutch of her mind.

“Apparently, there was a letter of great haste and importance delivered just this hour upon our doorstep,” she continued. Crossing arms and fixing him and a singular gaze. “Rammbroes, in representation of the Sons of Saint Coinach, officially partnered with Garlond Ironworks and the Adventurer’s Guild have requested a formal alliance with the Students of Baldesion in their inquires about the Crystal Tower. You know…that famed structure of the Allag Empire. Monstrosity that it is, however glittering in appearance. If you ask me, such an association is bound to butt heads with large and grandiose personalities among them. Though…would make sense then, why Grandfather should send you as our representative, acting historian…”

“Krile! Surely you jest with me!” G’raha laughed. Head thrown back and joyfulness bounding about him like the sunshine on his shoulders. Colors alive in the gaze he returned towards her. Such a thing could not be believed, not for the Seeker anyways. A swell at his heart spoke of eagerness; ready to sprint from this spot just to see if Master Galuf would really speak the truth. “To even begin to crack open the secrets of that Tower…what it would mean to the nagging voices of my bloodline. A hint at just what this…”

His fingers passed over the curves of his scarlet flushed eye. The one that held ages and secrets and the promises of a long dead nation within its limitless reflection.

“What destiny might have in store for me?”

He rocked on his feet. Fidgeting and whispers of unreserved elation, when the look about Krile finally caught his notice. She seemed naught able to still as well, but something tugged sharp at G’raha Tia as he looked on his friend. Her worried brow that pulled a little too deep at the corners.

“Krile,” he said in a softer voice, excitement tempered for the moment. He had to repeat it twice before she was finally pulled from her lost, swirling thoughts. “What ails you? Are you well?”

Foolish. She was being foolish. A thief to his joy that would cast dark shadows on something he rightly deserved. She should smile back and send him on his way. With well wishes and happy hopes in his pocket, but the young woman never shied away from speaking the truth. Aether and soul and Echo would never allow it. Whether blunt or wrapped in comfort, she always gave it.

Here…she merely desired to put him at ease. A cushioned and soft blow was her ending choice.

“I…I do not know G’raha,” she replied at last. Hesitant and voice given in murmurs. “I have…I have a bad feeling about this. Something foreboding. That I cannot shake.”

Down. She pushed it down. Pointing a finger at him instead. He may be a few years her senior, but in that moment she was every bit the scolding elder sibling. Bossy and determined to set him on the right path. To forestall…whatever this was clanging around in her breast. “Do not get into anything over your head! You are smart enough to excel here, despite all your best efforts to convince us otherwise.”

Small smile finally breaking through her harrowed mold. “So just make sure to use the knowledge I know you richly possess! And…”

A sigh. Hesitation. Shoulders going limp. “And just be careful.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“No,” she huffed. Annoyed that he would not take her seriously and yet, relieved at his easement of the situation. They warred together in equal measures before her.

“Do not worry so much Krile. If I am to do this, that which I know will set me on the path to my destiny, then I will do it well. A lifetime waiting…hoping for something like this…”

Her heart broke a bit as his face slipped to the ground under his feet. A deep breath that filled both his chest and resolve. G’raha Tia met her gaze then with resolution. And a smile that rose up from the corners of _what he was._

“I will do my very best.”

She let it go.

What else could she do when he stood like that? She wanted to grin…for he appeared just like the heroes he always wished to stand alongside. Archon indeed.

“Then, you best not keep Grandfather waiting,” she interjected. Hands to hips. “Else he give the task to someone else. Clive maybe. Or Ejika – since the man was lobbying for your position ere we speak.”

G’raha started and the look of sheer horror that fell over his face finally broke Krile into a laugh. Bubbled up and bursting from smiling lips. She turned away, as if to lead him back, waving a small hand as she did. She couldn’t help but tease him now; his infectious zeal like a kit come Yuletide morning. What words could she say that might instill even further the culmination of everything he’d studied for here? What hints could she set before him to stumble on that would speak of the other part of this request. The smile on her lips spread into a sly one, as she finally could read the title of the book he’d been so engrossed in upon her arrival.

Oh, G’raha Tia…she should have guessed.

“Oh, and did I forget to mention?” she glanced at him over a shoulder, stopping in such a rush that he almost barreled into her. Ears flickering. Tail swishing. His energy almost electric. “Minfilia told me, the Scions are also sending a representative…the Warrior of Light is in Mor Dhona.”

His smile threatened to outshine the sun. “The Warrior of…”

“Now, you may have chance to meet one of these heroes you’re always reading.” She pointed at the tome clutched in his hands. His eyes darted from the literature in question, to Krile’s self-satisfied smirk. The blush spreading on his cheeks.

“I…well that is to…I mean…”

“Come on, G’raha Tia,” Krile laughed resolutely. Turning back to lead him across the Isle of Val. Over brush and streams that trickled quickly in their never ending escape from the mountains. Wildflowers and fauna that had come to be these students home. Calm. A haven in on this tumultuous star…and G’raha Tia was about to set from it. The world was ahead. Adventures and journeys. To take flight upon wing and transverse over lands held only in his stories. To speak and fight with heroes of eld. To walk beside men of learning and women of intellect. Their reputations casting long shadows that G’raha Tia just wished to stand in.

To stand in and make his own mark on the world. For this age. For the ones to come.

And to meet the Warrior of Light. To finally give face to the name whispered in reverence on people’s lips. To ask her about her adventures. To tell tales that bards would come to know, and even to sing them around a campfire. If she would regal him…he would share his own secrets. His own history. The knowledge learned over a lifetime. Of Allag and the workings of Empires long since dead that still kept their haunting chorus.

All under the watchful gaze of the Crystal Tower.

His heart threatened to swell straight from his chest. Jumping to lodge about the throat – so great was the excitement. His anticipation that maybe…this, _this was what he’d been waiting for._

Unable to hold back any longer, G’raha Tia took off in a sprint. The spine of his book still safe in his hands. Krile’s laughter ringing at his ears.

\-----------

The Warrior of Light…was not as G’raha had expected.

Truth be told, in his mind the Seeker had crafted a woman tall and solid as steel. Head to tower over others; with shining armor and blazes of fire kept in her gaze. Stone silence and resolve in her fist. This was someone who spoke with commanders and kings. Laid waste to primals and ancient beings bent on hell fire. The star quaking beneath her feet.

Perhaps he’d liken her visage more akin to the gods she’d slain. Foolish notions of course, conjured more out of curious imagination than akin to reality. A concoction of heroes taken from a multitude of stories passed down by bardic tales. Hodgepodge of altruistic and gallant idiosyncrasies.

However, just as she had done with every tale crafted in her allegory, the Warrior of Light ignored them. Creating and fashioning her own ideal of what she was…and who she would be. And no one would tell her otherwise.

G’raha found himself staring when he first saw her all the same. Unmoving and enraptured. Though, for completely different reasons, rather than a revilement of an unbreakable warrior of untouchable marble and glass.

When G’raha Tia jumped from the wooden scaffolds, tail swishing out his excitement. Ears flickering back and round. There was nothing he could do to keep his brows from raising. Nor, from the words being suddenly struck in his throat.

Had speaking always been so difficult? Or his throat so dry? He’d been a hard working member of this illustrious company for two weeks now. Earning both his keep and his place among them. Respect exchanged and given in equal measure, despite his rambunctious and excitable nature. In, fact it seemed as if Rammbroes and others appreciated the intelligence mixed with levity. His joy was almost palpable. He _belonged here._

So, why then was finally meeting the Hero of this star so damn difficult?

Seven hells.

Oh. Oh. _Oh._

_She was beautiful._

Lithe and slender-waisted. Twisted locks of chocolate, burnished like black coffee in the sun. She wore it in a low messy bun, tendrils and curls escaping the hold. Framing an elegant neck and rounded cheeks.

The gaze she leveled at him was all violets. Lavender and Lilac. Deep enough that he could fall straight into the colors and never surface.

It was a strange reflection. For the eyes of the Warrior of Light were at equal moments young and bright. Filled to the brim with her namesake resplendence. And yet…they spoke of ages long since past. Of memories and lost thoughts given now to legends. When even history became myth.

But she smiled at him. This tiny Miqo’te that was almost a head shorter, triangle ears rounded back and forth. They looked so different from his own, and he wondered if she was more akin to kitsune than feline yet the long tail swishing like water behind her was normal enough.

This radiant woman that moved mountains. The curve of her lips held secrets all her own. How could such a lovely thing be so mischievous and mysterious in the same breath? Bubbled laughter and so bright it hurt to look upon her. G’raha couldn’t help the smile that he returned towards the Hero of Light. Full and spreading. A grin that broke through everything he had.

He wanted to smile at her, and strange thought spreading through his chest, he wanted _her_ to keep smiling at him.

No. She was _nothing_ like he had been expecting.

He felt something… _shift_ underneath him. Around him. _Within him._

“So you return at last,” injected the booming voice of Rammbroes. The man couldn’t seem to decide if he should be annoyed or amused at G’raha’s timely introductions. The slight smile at the end gave hints to his eventually deciding manner. “And what, pray tell, has kept you so wholly preoccupied that you could not spare a moment to inform me of your progress or preservation?”

G’raha drew hesitant eyes away from the young woman, who watched them all in amused silence, to Rammbroes. A wave of the hand and the tug of a single corner to the mouth. “Why, the task you assigned me, of course! Surely you have not forgotten about the aethersand? I tasked a passing adventurer with delivering it. A more capable courier I could not imagine.”

“Mhm,” the woman gave at last her voice. Ethereal, and dark as the framing of her limitless eyes. Her own half smile was captured on the shape of round, full lips. “It seems most of my time is spent in emissary service anyway. What was one more traipse about the forest floor to collect someone else’s baubles? Twas not as if I was busy with my own tasks.”

She was…teasing him. Oh gods above, G’raha laughed out loud. Joy make his heart take wing like a bird.

“Then, I believe an introduction is in order?” His ears bobbed at his nod, gesturing towards himself with a sweep of his hand. Tail twitching. “I am G’raha Tia. One of the Students of Baldesion. I look forward to joining you on your groundbreaking expedition.”

Her hands found the curve of her waist. A tilt of her head that made her hair move. “You were my voice of never ending wild chases in the forest? Fair enough. Watch yourself Seeker, I may have to repay you in kind.”

G’raha had the good sense to blush. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. Ears pressed flat.

“G’raha Tia has been assigned to the project as an observer and historian. I hope you will forgive him his…eccentricities and welcome as one of our own.” Rammbroes added. A sigh given in slight exasperation; though the two engineers of Ironworks snickered with cherry, good humor.

“The damage has been done,” the Hero retorted and in that one, brief agonizing moment G’raha Tia felt his heart drop hard to his stomach. Settling like lead. His natural charming and engaging persona failing miserably. He would have to give his apologies. And to think quickly too…if she was displeased with him how could he possibly…

“Fortunately, I am the forgiving sort when the offending party purchases the entire company a round,” she broke through his dark thoughts with a bon mot. A quirk of her brow and then a half turning of the mouth. Joyous. Brilliant. Smiles and a light of eyes. G’raha couldn’t breathe for a moment when she shone as bright as a star.

Wedge and Biggs burst into celebratory appreciation. Slapping the male Seeker on the shoulders, dragging his attention away. Their own smirks wide. G’raha was jostled a bit, but he couldn’t help the relief spreading through his body as they made their way to convey the favorable fortune to the rest of the company. He would pay whatever price of merciful gestures to make up for his less than ideal introduction. And her good nature was brushing against his. Teasing. Her response tickling at his skin. His gaze was almost bashful as he returned to look at the young woman in front of them.

“G’raha Tia,” she said softly with a playful lift. “Tis a pleasure. My name is Kalea.”

She held out a hand. Elegant fingers that held callouses to the palms. G’raha beamed, something even to rival the crystals littered about their landscape, and took it. His warmth encompassing hers.

Something _snapped._

A shock of aether licked like a live wire up G’raha’s spine. It wove and struck, pulls and edges and all sparks on the tongue. He could feel it…within the depths of his core. Each corner of his heart. His _soul._

Resonated with the thrum of her very own.

He looked at her at once. Cyan and red. Like the blood pounding in his ears. Like the color flushing his cheeks…and like the one spread on hers.

Her mouth parted as her gaze refused to leave his. Blue violets. Drowning in glimmers of amethyst. Soft whispers in the aether that coiled about fingers that didn’t let go. Quick and violet as Levin. Her lashes darted. Up. Down. Searching the lines of his face as if to understand just…what…he was…

But, in truth – he was the one awestruck in wonder at her.

“Kalea? Are you well?”

Cid Garlond queried a brow at his friend. A small frown of worry tugging along his jaw. G’raha felt her tear her eyes away from his. Just as forceful as if it’d been ripped. She waved on her feet, back and forth even while she regained her footing. Quick, rapid blinks that kept her gaze darting around. Subtle. Hints of this…woven thing between them. Her corner smile remaining.

“Yes. Yes…of course,” she replied without reserve. G’raha noticed that she pulled her hand up to press against her breast for a moment. Clutched close against the rapid pace of her heart. Tail swishing back and forth. Long and like a curious pendulum. His own clutched at his side. Fingers pulling into the palm. Tingles and glints along the flesh.

“Come on Cid, I would know more about our new companion,” she took the older man’s elbow. Linking it into her own. Hair curling about her bright, arcane eyes. G’raha felt…something weigh hard on his stomach at their touch before he began stuttering. Caught words in the back of his mouth, as brows rose to meet the edge of his rose colored hair. She’d taken his arm into the crook of her opposite side. Tucked close and brushing her waist. The skin of his bare shoulder meeting hers.

“Isn’t that right G’raha Tia?” she looked up at him through a curtain of lashes. A jolt spreading up from his chest. An embarrassing blush on his cheeks. Her one corned smile was infectious. Nothing about her made sense to him. A mysterious creature appearing like a burst of color into his vision. He…He…wanted to know more. Wanted to know of _her more._

He was a scholar after all. It was in his nature.

G’raha covered the hand resting on his forearm with his own. Heard the small sharp, intake of breath she gave. So soft that others might not have caught it. Her ears rounding to meet him. To hear his voice and watch his mouth form the words. He smiled all on his own. Dazzling. He wasn’t the only one sporting a blush then.

“Lead the way my lady.”

Rammbroes shook his head, chuckling at all of them.

* * *

The Warrior of Light was an enigma.

A young woman who spoke with bite and intelligence, giving no qualms to what others might think of her. Confident in her own abilities that gave way to admiration. Missteps taken in stride, framed with dark humor that would burst him into stitches of smiles and laughter. Someone who gritted her teeth, working hard and trudged through mud to accomplish any number of tasks – no matter how menial they might appear to others. But, who then fussed over her long hair and was in love with fine fabrics and seamless fashion. Her armor and robes always flattering. Form fitted about her figure. A subtle emphasis of her beautiful, enchanting nature.

She embraced her role as the powerful hero these hopeless people needed; yet humility held tight and firm in each formation of her speech. The crux of her interaction with others.

She was kind. Unbelievably so. G’raha hoped it would not become her detriment.

But, she was hot tempered and passionate. Bossy and at times even domineering.

She curious about the world about her. Taking in knowledge from Rammbroes and the Sons of Saint Coinach; she would drag G’raha off to spend time with her in ample study. Sitting much too close and yet not nearly close enough to his elbow as he spoke over texts. Watching violet eyes soak in his words. Washed over flickering ears. His concentration wavering each time her fingers caught and brushed her hair. Each time her scent swirled around his head.

The more he learned of her, the deeper her layers went. The more she drew him into her. Tumbling and head first. With every brush of her fingers on his skin. With every half smile she gave him. Whispers between them. Laughter tingling in his ears. A slippery slope that he made no effort to stop.

Three months since his arrival with the self-titled N.O.A.H. seemed to pass in a blur of colors, all a waterfall mix of her star flecked eyes and half smiles. She was not always with them, her duties to the alliances pulling her in all manner of directions, but when she’d return it was as if she’d bring her namesake with her. Bursting onto their visions like the breaking of morning. The unfolding of waves upon an empty shore. They would orbit around her, caught in her halo. Light shining from her steps. This adventurer who had become something dear and precious. Hero. Inspiration. Colleague. Comrade. _Friend…_

G’raha had known infatuation before. Shallow stirrings that sparked brief interludes of romance that ran natural course. Impassionate nights with hot breaths, course fingers and light laughter – that grew into hollow interactions. Occurring less and less as he had gotten older. Growing into who he was as a man, who he _wanted_ to be.

But this? Each time he saw her. When he spoke to her. When her endless eyes found his and the half smile brimmed at her mouth. Mischievous. Mysterious. The aether around them hummed. Sparked and electrified. A ripple up his spine and an itch at his fingers. She would seek him out often. To engage in his own studies, to press him for curious questions that he would search to find an answer to. Sometimes, if nothing else to simply _be_ in his company. Delighted in the nature that was threading and weaving; strings of red line tied from one to the other.

Sonorous affections hiding and taking root as a growing, blooming friendship. The tree dug deep. Drinking thick from the well between them. G’raha was left whirling. A planet caught in the gravitational pull of her star.

“G’raha! _G’raha!_ Wake up!”

There were whispers from his tent flap. Curls of violet citrus about his bedroll and hovering over his head. Drowsy, the man tried to shake the sleep from his eyes. What time was it? The curtain of night still pressed hard against him, a yawn escaping his teeth. There was another soft whistle and G’raha suddenly sat up. Curious and wondering if it was truly the face of Kalea peeping in through the opening, or merely still stuck in a dream of his own making.

“What is…” he blinked, mumbling out in slurred, groggy speech. Though, his heart came to bang across his ribs as her luminous eyes were made real in the dark. Not his imagination after all.

“Kalea!” he whispered back, furrowing his brow. A frown in his confusion. Fingers through his messy hair. “What is…are you…did something happen?”

“Come with me G’raha,” she grinned, and he saw her ears twitch excitedly. “I want to show you something!”

“In the…middle of the night?” He questioned, scrambling about, trying to find his clothes. Something more presentable than the cotton smalls he was wearing. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied, the blush fierce on his cheeks and hid by his hair…he would have noticed the way her flashing gaze dragged over him. Lips parted and her own face staining red.

“Yes! Come now!” she laughed and ignoring his stammering protests, slipping into the tent. G’raha managed to tug on his trousers and a tunic that he couldn’t seem to button when she was suddenly before him. Catching and stealing his breath. Sharing the small space between them. “We shall miss it if you were not so concerned about your modesty!”

“One can hardly blame me…” he chuckled in a soft laugh. His throat suddenly holding his heart. Hoarse and dry. “It has been a long time since a woman snuck into my tent to tempt me in the night. Or more likely…never, would be the correct statement.”

“Mhm,” Kalea hummed out her half smile. The air snapped between them. The cool night falling like velvet outside. Soft and shimmering. The Hero of Light reached out, and with fingers that both slew gods and comforted weeping villagers, fixed the scarf G’raha had slung half hazardly about his neck. Her touch brushed bare skin at his shoulders. The still uncovered planes of his chest. Kalea smiled as she fixed it, light and deep violets caught in her eyes when she turned up to look at him. “Well, lucky you I arrived. I am here to steal you away _._ ”

So close.

She was so close.

Her lips parted. Sighs and breath that shared between them. Kalea’s hair dipped over her shoulder, and without stopping to think of it – G’raha caught it in his hands.

“I was not aware that the great Scion was a thief.”

When she smiled it set something alive within him. Eyes meeting his, a world of dark stars in her gaze. Her hands remained at his scarf; slight touches at her chest. And his…tangled in her tresses. Curled silk over knuckles.

“When the occasion calls for it,” she whispered up to him. And for a brief moment…G’raha thought she would kiss him. Twelve above, how he _wanted_ her to. How he wanted to kiss _her._

“Now, hurry! Come with me!” Her face lit up. All teeth and lips and rounded, blushing cheeks. The words were so close they puffed over his mouth and something within G’raha _ached._ But he couldn’t help the joy spreading through him when she wove her fingers into his hand. Pulling and tugging. He followed her easily, without a complaint. His own laughter escaping again as she tried to hush him.

“And where is it exactly we are going, my lady? Or should I say…kidnapper?”

“I must away with my prize, G’raha,” she turned over her shoulder and looked at him. Her face caught in starlight. Messy hair and aether swirling about her like an ocean. For a moment, G’raha struggled to remember how to breathe. “Before they catch us and steal you back, away from me!”

“I doubt that Rammbroes would design to miss me too much,” G’raha smirked. “Perhaps seek some relief from the never ending banter between us.” He watched in rapid fascination and humor as Kalea lead him through the weave of tents and pulsing equipment. The low hum of Ironworks machinery lifting above the air. Taking to heart the seriousness of her endeavors, she glanced about corners and moved silent as a prowling cat. Her hand still wrapped perfectly into his.

“You say that, like you are not a willing participate in my drive for sustained conversation,” she looked back at him again. One side of her mouth tugging and eyes lit like gems. “Can I help it G’raha that you have become my _dearest friend_ here? Truly, was this your plan all along! Is this how you ensnare all your women? With fumbling charm and talk of historical context?”

“What? I don’t even know how…but, I...not…not all women…” he mumbled. His neck suddenly feeling warm and flushed. She was still smiling at him. As if she knew a great secret that he did not.

“Mhm, and just like that…” she leaned forward against his chest. Chin lifting and lashes almost brushing his cheeks. They were so long…how did they not get tangled? And how was it that she could so easily flit and move about him as she did? She was a whirlwind. A thunderstorm and ocean breeze all tangled up in Miqote fur and elegance. His hand tightened on hers…or maybe…it was the other way around.

“G’raha Tia.” His name sounded so perfect in her mouth. Innocent and smooth. Hot and heavy. Juxtaposition. Just as she was. “What am I to do with you?”

He smiled. Charming flickers and teeth catching the moonlight. “Whatever you want. You captured me, remember?”

Now, it was her time to flush. Though, her gaze _burned._ Smolders of dark violet, swirls of color that screamed aloud all the unspoken words between them. This knife edge they teetered on. The ever shrinking edge between what they said they were…and what they desperately wanted, though they gave it no name. Not yet. Not yet…

“I did,” she replied at last. Breathless. G’raha swelled with pride, heart growing tenfold against the confines of his chest. He had made her like that. “Now, come away with me! You have no choice my friend!”

As if he would ever deny her.

She stole him away on a chocobo. One of the larger draught variations that N.O.A.H. kept stalled for special circumstances. Ivory tipped feathers glowing in the night air. It whistled and cooed gentle greetings, leaning its massive beak into Kalea’s hand when she reached out to stroke the downy feathers. Offering no protest when G’raha swung himself up into the saddle. On the contrary, it was seemingly excited about the prospect of late night rendezvous and mysterious flights in clear skies. Springing on scaled feet, the joy was infectious. Kalea covered her mouth with woven fingers to stifle a laugh as G’raha bounced for a moment in the saddle. His tail curling about the leather for a better foothold.

Silent stow-a-ways, they were not.

When the chocobo had settled, still eager and happy in the little bobs of its head – G’raha held a hand down to Kalea. Fingers uncurling and longing, once more to meet her own.

“I know you are perfectly capable,” he smiled. Poorly hiding his delight. “But what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t offer you my assistance? Or what kind of friend, for that matter. What would happen if the Hero of Light fell back on her ass?”

“Think about my ass do you?” she quipped and took his offer quickly. His warmth enveloping her, even while he stammered out from a rush of color that flooded up his neck.

“There is…I don’t even…” A sigh. Ears laid flat against his head. Hands running over his face once they were released. She met his gaze after she settled herself in front, turning over her shoulder. Alluring and teasing. “You enjoy putting me in a flush, don’t you?”

“G’raha, I enjoy many things about you. That just happens to be one of them.”

She took his hand back once more, moving it to spread and hold about her waist. Something short circuited in the Seeker’s brain. Feeling her underneath his fingertips. The curve of her skin. The make and splay of her hips. How her scent wrapped around him like a blanket. A wash on a shore and drowned in the sea that made her aether.

“Ready?” she asked. Voice a reflection of her excitement. Why did he feel like her question was layered with a thousand other implications than just this one mad dash aboard a borrowed chocobo? Her eyes were shining at him. Practically incandescent in their brilliance and G’raha Tia suddenly realized…

She never looked at anyone else like that.

Not Biggs or Wedge. Not Rammbroes or Cid. Not even the illusive Scions when they perchance came to visit for easy smiles and important conversations.

No one…save him. Or so he _desperately wished._

“Absolutely,” he whispered in reply. Solid and smoldering. He tightened his hold on her waist and thrilled at the feel of her. The weight of her. The way she was…almost purring underneath his palms. “I will go wherever you lead, Hero.”

* * *


	2. What's Past is Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Be rough and razorable; she that from whom  
> We all were sea-swallowed, though some cast again,  
> And by that destiny to perform an act  
> Whereof what’s past is prologue, what to come  
> In yours and my discharge."
> 
> \- The Tempest, Act 2: Scene 1

The night skies of Northern Thanalan stretched out in a rolling, sparkling void. A press of velvet that was as deep and endless as an ocean. A star spattered, sunless sea.

The chocobo trilled out in merry contentment at the patch of long grass he was allowed to graze on. Kalea’s gentle fingers giving one last brush on the smiling beak. The bird didn’t wander far, his coos quiet and pleased, meandering to entertain himself.

“Star gazing, Kalea?” G’raha smiled at the young woman. Laughing and ignoring how lightheaded he became when she laid out a large blanket from the pack the chocobo had brought. Pulling him gently down. Down. _Down with her._

“I should hope something better,” she whispered. Not a soul about for miles and yet her voice was only for him. Secrets passed in confidence between _dear friends._ She laid on her back, loose hair spreading out. Splayed like water. An aurora captured on this earth. Shimmers were caught on her lashes. Jewels that the mother had blessed her with. G’raha wondered if Hydaelyn had seen fit to put the very essence of stars in Kalea’s eyes. Such was how it seemed when she looked at him. Cherry lips spread in the brightest of smiles.

“Would I abscond with such a prize, merely to look at constellations?”

“Mhm. Tis no doubt,” he answered and settled himself beside her. His bare shoulder pressed to hers. Their tails brushing. The sky was eternal and unbroken before them. Two little souls merely passing through this great, immortal swirl of color. Never changing…and yet always making things new.

“I can never guess you Kalea,” he chuckled. He saw her ears flicker, pressed a bit to her head. “Perhaps you merely wished me to give you a lesson about Eorzea’s star patterns? If such is the case, I would be more than pleased to teach you.”

“Ever the scholar my dear friend,” she replied. Breath a sweet ghost over his skin when she turned to meet his eyes. “But, I can pretend to know none of them just so that you might teach me. Tis all part of the plan you see.”

“Oh? What plan would that be?”

“The one where I emerge the winner having fallen asleep to your voice,” she smirked and pressed a finger to his mouth. For such elegant hands the pads of them were calloused. Rough and silk about his lips and G’raha felt his heart pulse. Tugged. Pulled. His exhale curling over her skin.

His own fingers itched and trembled; ready to take hers into his own but, it didn’t last. Something passed over her face and she turned back to the unfading world above them. “But, one I know too well.”

Her voice wavered and it caught at G’raha. So much so that he propped himself up on an elbow. A furrow growing between his brows as he leaned over her. He’d never seen her like this. So…unsure. Unbalanced. But, he would be here. If she was to fall – he would catch her. With every measure of strength he had, he would give it. Tucked together like lovers under a dark sky.

“Kalea…” he began, but the word faded. Reaching forward to brush the tear away with his thumb. It caught on his skin. Just as it had done across the mirror of her eyes before escaping.

Fingers at his wrist. Gentle. Fluid.

She had taken his hand first.

“Llymlaen,” she said at last. She didn’t look at him, but her grip, soft, did not release his. “I know Llymlaen. The Navigator. The watcher of seas and the commander of wind. Her stars are…just there.”

He followed her outstretched hand, the cluster unmistakable as it glittered in the northern sky. Never moving. A guidance when all other celestial bodies found different homes throughout the seasons. G’raha knew it well, as did anyone wishing to find their way forward in the dark.

“I followed her,” Kalea continued, lips parting. Chest rising with the pull of her breath. G’raha never took his eyes from her, even when she was lost amid her own remembrance. “That night in winter. Into the forests of Gridania before others found me. My father had been a sailor, after all. Amidst the screams and outbursts of violence it was the one thing he passed to me. The Navigator. A light to guide a wandering soul home.”

She never spoke of herself like this. Three months of drawing closer: weaving, pulling, threading together and only now would she allow him a viewing to the dark parts that crafted this Warrior of Light. That had shaped the beginnings of _his friend._

“Kalea,” he begin and was hushed into silence at her fingers to his lips once more. She met his gaze at last. A bittersweet tug at her mouth. All rounded cheeks and soft smiles. Ears pressed flat to her radiant hair.

“I wanted to share this with you G’raha _,_ ” she said, nose touching his. “I wanted to make happier memories with you than the one I was left with.”

Another smile. Flickers of her teasing nature reaching her eyes. “Is that selfish? My dear friend, we can make this our first adventure.”

Heart thundering in his ears. Warmth and heat and combustion and the feeling of being _home._ When he returned her smile, it lit brighter than the stars caught in their mouths. Her own personal sun.

“Promise me,” he laughed. Gentle and pressing a kiss to the digits still at his lips. He could feel her sharp intake of breath. The blush that stained her skin. The sparks that lit like a fire between them. “That you will take me on one of your adventures after this. Any of them. As long as…as long as I can be with you.”

One last kiss to her knuckles. One last radiant smile that rose up from the corners of Kalea’s soul. The crux of her heart given to him right there at the corners. A swelling emotion that was so deep, she could not yet give it a name.

“I promise.”

They laid once more on their backs. Resolve and vows now between them. Companions. Friends. _Cherished ones._ The edge between them grew ever smaller. Caught fire and burning. Ample fuel to only add to the pyre. To make the soil rich.

Seeds digging deep and finding unmovable root.

He made her laugh afterwards. Made the teasing light return to her eyes when he broke into his own stories of childhood. Of pranks pulled on fellow students. His punishments of equal measure and embarrassing shame. Though, never enough to detract from the next one, and she chuckled to find those boyhood traces still existing in the veins of his nature. Made into something joyful. Into something that lifted the weight of those around them and brought light to this star.

It was so easy to find a rhythm with her. To open up the book of his life and share all his pages so that she might read and take each part of him in. He wanted to give…all of it.

Kalea gasped when at last the meteor shower, which Rammbroes had told her of in merry passing, came spattering across the sky. G’raha Tia, ever the scholar, regaled her with ample information. Turning animated, as he always would in the sharing of such precious knowledge. How showers would get their names from the constellations where their radiant was located. That they only occur when their star passed through a trail of debris left by a comet or asteroid on their extensive journey through space and void. How the colors of meteors depended upon their chemical composition. Calcium, Sodium, Magnesium and Iron. Each was pointed out in quick succession.

He turned her grins into soft, smoldering ones. Her eyes moving from the spectacle they held secret to…then to the lines of his handsome face.

A memory indeed.

She never let go of his hand.

* * *

A fool.

She was a complete and utter fool. Blind to grief and despair. Running rampant and wild. Just as wild as the feet that carried her towards the Crystal Tower. It wasn’t fast enough. She could never be fast enough.

Vision blurring and tears staining her lashes. Tangling in her long hair, damp at the temples. Her breathing was sharp. Knives edges and piercing to her side. But, she wouldn’t relent. She couldn’t’. Would never.

She had to see him again.

Royal blood or not. Orphans. Survivors. Allagan. Forebearers. A hero and a scholar. _Destiny._

He was still her friend. He was still her…

Kalea skidded along the stone, tumbling slightly in her corner turn but she righted herself quickly. Cid’s shouts barely registering behind her. The booming voice of Rammbroes echoing to others. Farther and farther back. Calls that pushed at her shoulders.

Faster.

She had to be faster.

She shouldn’t have left him alone. When he’d taken her hand in his, pressed a kiss to the soft skin between her thumb and fingers, and said he’d only need a moment. A moment to gather his thoughts and think on how his very world had been colored red. Like blood. The one that Unei and Doga had given to him. The eyes that had looked at her with such equal measures of sorrow and wells of emotions that he didn’t say aloud. Flickers of that glittering smile he saved just for her.

Her ears had pressed flat to her head at the suggestion that she would leave him. But, he’d simply kissed her hand again. Her heart forever in her throat. Face and body and skin _burning_. Like a magnet, draw and forever at his pole – she would have waited. For as long as he needed.

But...

After all he had been through…hadn’t he deserved this? A brief respite to try and wrap thoughts about a destiny suddenly only his? She understood it. More than any other soul. The press and weight of what it meant to take up a mantle on this star.

So she had _left him alone._

Friend. Confidant. Companion. Cherished one…

“Damn it!” she whispered, harsh and crying to no one save the litters of crystals about her. The Tower was close. The doors filled with gold and eons of ancient whispers her lighthouse. The only solid point that she could reach in this sea. The storm set about her as she ran.

Not fast enough.

“Go no further my dearest friend. The door will close ere long.”

He emerged from the shadow of that great Tower. The chasm of metal and allagan mechania that separated them. A gulf growing wide as an ocean. Soft and slow footsteps, as if each one he took weighed a thousand stones. Pressed heavy on his shoulders. Never to be light and free again.

The look in his eyes ruined her. Sorrow. Grief. Anguish. _Loss._

She was breaking. She could hear the sound of her own heart shattering in her ears.

“G’raha,” Kalea breathed. Fingers pressed to her panting breast. The same ones he had just…The feeling of his mouth on her skin haunted her like a ghost.

“You _are_ of a mind to seal the Tower.”

His tail swayed behind him. Ears limp. He stopped just before her. A single step out from that doorway and she lurched forward. Hands into the leather at his chest. His heartbeat thundering under her palms.

He covered her shaking hands with his own. Threaded together and pressing them tight. He wouldn’t let her go. Not yet. Not…yet…

Though when she looked up at him, his eyes suddenly fell to the floor.

“I cannot believe it is true,” she whispered and saw his lips part. His breath soft on skin. She was angry. “When they came into camp and said that you…my friend If anything is amiss, would you tell me? I can…I would do anything to help you!”

His fingers squeezed on hers and when he turned back to look at her, his wretched eyes swallowed hers. Drowned violets in floods of red.

“I know you would,” he whispered with a sad smile. “Twelve preserve me, I do not deserve your loyalty. Nor your friendship.”

“If not you, then who?!” she snapped back, hands curling and pulling him closer. His bangs brushed along her cheeks. “G’raha…I cannot…this is not…”

“You cannot help me Kalea,” he replied gently. “Just as Unei and Doga fulfilled their destiny, so too must I fulfill mine. My blood has awakened me to that fact. As my father told me, the truth has always lain with Allag. Or, rather, ‘twas there the wish I must grant was born.”

“Fathers say many things,” Kalea said. Fire in her eyes. A furrow at her brow. But, G’raha was not deterred. His wistful half turn of the mouth remained. One of his hands moving to thread through the strands of her long hair. Watching with poorly conceived longing as the color slipped over his knuckles. Like catching water in his hands.

“Kalea, not all the world perished in Xande’s calamity. Survivors stood amidst the ruins of Allag. Looking to the Crystal Tower. But it was nowhere to be seen. Yet, they hoped its spires would again dominate the land, and prayed that the Crystal Tower would be a beacon of hope to people everywhere.”

He met her gaze again, though his fingers did not leave the tangle of her hair. Cradling and twining in the curve at the back of her neck. “Like you are. To the people of this star. To…to me, Kalea.”

She shook her head. Lashes pressed hard to keep her own sobs from escaping. To keep her own self from breaking apart. Lifeless and lost at his feet.

“Word of this soon reached the only member of Allag’s royalty to outlive the empire: the princess Salina,” he continued, pushing through when his own voice caught harsh in the throat. “Salina was moved by the people’s dearest wish. She used the very best of Allag’s technology to give her blood and memories to he whom she trusted most. That man was my forebearer.”

He turned to look at his right hand. The one whose spaces fit perfectly into her own. He lifted it, taking her own fingers along. Pressing his palm to hers. His was so much larger than her own. Mirrored hands and yet...

“For millennia, we waited. Allag’s art and ingenuity faded. Our royal blood grew thin. But before the last drop could vanish from the realm, the memory of all this returned to me.”

Resolve found its way to his voice. To his mouth. Though, his eyes could not leave hers. The determination turned to grief when he looked at her.

“Kalea…I must fulfill the wish of the ancients. The tower _will_ shine forth as a new beacon of hope. Cid and the others have spoken true. The Crystal Tower’s strength poses too great a threat to Eorzea. To her people. To…to _you.”_

A swallow. A deep breath that coupled a sob. Whether from him or her…it did not matter.

“I will do as Xande did, and put the tower into a deep sleep. The tower may only be used once men rival the Allagans in knowledge. I will…I will…slumber within the Sycrus Tower until then. To greet those with the means of opening the gates. Then, I will guide them. And thus shall the Crystal Tower shine forth as the beacon of hope it was _meant to be._ Tis the only way to make the wishes of the Ancients come true. The future…the future is where _my destiny awaits._ ”

Blood rushing and pounding in her ears, Kalea shook her head. Like a child desperately trying to cling to the last hope offered. Her voice fractured and snapped and G’raha couldn’t bear to see her grief. His hands coming to cup the sides of her face. Gently. Softly. Fingers blazing fire on her skin. Thumbs wiping away the wet tracks entangled in violets. Red and indigo. Blood and lavender. His heart and her own.

“But yours…Kalea, yours lies outside these doors. Go. Create a future where hope reigns and the tragedies of the past are but memories. No one but _you_ can accomplish such things.”

Another cry. Another shake of her head, but he didn’t release her. Instead drawing closer. His breath puffing over her lips.

“G’raha,” she whispered and Kalea could feel the pads on her cheeks tighten. The way he looked at her. The way her soul rose brilliantly to meet his. Nothing…nothing was like this. And nothing ever would be again.

Snaps. Sparks. A light set to a fuel soaked pyre.

“Why do you have to be _…_ such a selfless ass _?_ ”

A smile. Like the light from the sun. Everything left that he was, she could have it. Everything left she had…was his. A strangled laugh. “Isn't that quite the juxtaposition? But if I am selfless, it is because I have you as my inspiration. Forgive me. I…I wanted that adventure. _I wanted to go on an adventure with you.”_

And then he kissed her. At the end of their journey, he finally covered her mouth with his.

Warmth and heat and mingled tears. Combustion like a powder keg between them. Their aether roared and smashed and pulsed together. Blending and mixing. Becoming the very eye, in a turbulent storm. But…it was there. The kernel of unbreakable truth between them. The overwhelming sense of coming _home._ Forever changed. Never to be the same again.

He whispered her name over her lips; revered like a prayer. His hands tightened at her jaw. Hers into his bright hair. He kissed her again. Or this time, maybe she pulled him down to her.

Kalea couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her heart slammed wildly against the confines of her ribs. Threatening to burst. Straight from her chest to pour out at his feet. The color of his limitless eyes. She would give it to him. In that moment, the understanding breaking over her like a wave. She would offer it to him freely. Snapping. Mending. Each moment falling more into align with the other.

His hands moved down the lines of her sides, squeezing her hips. Desperate to have her closer. To feel her against him. As if she was made to fit into every piece of him. To make this memory that would burn bright and bold and undimming into any age he set foot in.

His last thoughts before and after waking would always be of her.

“ _Kalea,_ ” he said again. This time for the last. When he pulled away, she chased after him for a moment. Her final kiss soaked by her tears. Salt on his tongue. He smiled at her, and she through a choking gasp – gave one back.

“I know history will remember you. No doubt, your heroism will be the star by which I chart my course when I awake.”

Kalea shook her head. Her glittering eyes never once leaving his. G’raha followed that thread and held tight. Her gaze captured him. Just as it had done all those months ago when they’d first met. Just as it had always done. And she would look at him, until the very end. Burning and engraving his memory. Seared like a seal over her heart.

“I will _never_ forget you,” she whispered and trailed her fingers along the lines of his jaw. Her palm caught his cheek. Cradling the last of his tears. “And I will _never_ stop trying to bring to fruition…the day when I can finally wake you up.”

He kissed her again because he could. He found sanctuary in her mouth for the last time because here at last; he was free to finally do so.

Here, at the end of all things.

But, both their ears flickered back. Shouts and calls from Rammbroes and Cid were echoing over stone and crystal. Drawing closer and pushing hard against the last stretch of their final goodbyes. The ancients were calling to him. Humming like a siren song in his blood. Thousands of whispers giving song to the dreams from this Tower. This hope for the future that he would need to see. That he would help make.

A future that Kalea would shape with her own hands.

“I am truly such a selfish creature,” he cried with the anguish left in his heart. Stepping back from her. Her hands on his face, the last feel of her touch on his skin. The Crystal Tower now between them.

She laughed. A bitter, choking sound. “You, G’raha…you are reminding me of duties greater than ourselves. And I…” A swallow. Swirls of color and light at her eyes before she continued. “I understand. I understand more than anyone. But, you…and I…we… _this…_ ”

Kalea hated herself, for she was usually never so poor with words. But how could she possibly give voice and language and texture to what this was between them. What could she say, when the doors were aching, their final countdown begun. Great, groaning creaks that seemed to rise up from the earth itself to shake its foundations. The slumbering symbol of glistening hope and the dreams of thousands…that awakened from eons to _lock him away from her_.

G’raha would never forget how she looked in that moment. Lips stung swollen and red from the ministrations of his own mouth. Hair tousled and waving about shoulders. Her hands pressed up against the curve of her heart.

She was bright and beautiful. More than any star. And no matter what age he would be in…he would always be pulled into her gravity. To this… _thing between them._

“ _I know_ ,” was all he said.

She heard movement behind her. Over the massive rise of aether and magics. Over the rushing inside her own head. The breaking of her heart. The others had finally arrived, the crowed of worried faces unmistakable, though their voices still were too far oft to make into speech. Though…truth be told, they could stand near her shoulder and she wouldn’t have heard them. Turning back instead to G’raha Tia.

His the only voice left in her dark world.

“I suppose now I must rest,” he smiled at her. Sadness and grief and _endings._ The half one she gave him back was mirrored like his own. “Recalling so much has put me in the mood for sleep.”

They had arrived just behind her. Barrage of questions and panicked cries. A thousand pleas that Kalea did not have the heart for. She held up a single hand instead, eyes never leaving the singular point left of her aether. Where red and violet still blended together.

They quieted at once. Confusion and worry finding their place instead.

“Farewell, my friends,” G’raha finished. “I eagerly await a future born of your courage and the ancient’s wish.”

The doors were growing smaller. That last space where she could see him, and Kalea stepped forward. Fingers outstretched and finding the crystal underneath her palms. He had turned away, unable to bear the last visages of seeing this hero…this woman…his _cherished one…_ being shut on the other side of the door. But…

He looked over his shoulder. Her gaze and her voice the last gifts the tower would leave him before silence echoed about the chamber. Before the doors sealed shut.

“ _Raha!_ ”

Were the last words that would ring in his ears. Till sleep and star take him.

He cried, alone in the dark until he could bear no more. When the void of ancients overwhelmed him and dreams claimed his vison.

Dreams of nothing save her for centuries.

On the other side of the door, the Hero of Light refused to leave the shadow of the Crystal Tower until Twilight found her. When her palm became numb against glass and gold, when she had slumped against that barricade. Kalea found it cold. Like the grip clenching about her heart; the ache of a soul missing a part of its own self. All she wanted…all she wished was to simply hear his voice on the other side.

But, she never would again.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive my shameless use of in game dialogue >.> Hopefully it wasn't too awful. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support of this nonsense rambling. There are not enough thank you's I can give!
> 
> Mahalo


	3. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.”
> 
> The Tempest, Act 1: Scene 2

_“Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.”_

**_William Shakespeare, the Tempest_ **

She was _here._

He had felt it the moment she’d arrived. The moment her presence was made manifest on this earth. The force of what she was, brought with her. Of what she might bring. A change. A reckoning. A salvation, if he could convince her. Aether and current and very soul hummed alive. And in her wake…the whole star shifted.

_He felt himself shift all over again._

“Damn it,” he mumbled under cursed breath. Too far. His summoning spell had put her too far. What if something happened to her on the road here? What if…

A shake of the head and determination gripped firmly about pale knuckles and crystalline skin. She wouldn’t be way laded so easily. He would have faith…if not in his poor execution, then in her relentless ability. The strength and color of her very soul. Hadn’t he already known that about her?

Still…

He ran.

He ran to meet her. Unable to contain the joy made a living thing inside his chest. The hum of his heart desperate to resonate with hers. Never mind that this wasn’t the time. Nor, that it had been _centuries…_ well for him at least. And never mind that she wouldn’t know him. That she could _never_ know him.

All he wanted… _was to see her._

The guards flanked on either side of the open gate wore perfect examples of a shocked expression. In fact, all of the citizens he passed in his hurried attempt to just _reach her,_ held similar open mouths. Raised brows and curious mutterings.

It wasn’t everyday one could see their illusive and normally composed Lord sprinting through the halls and hills like a child. In fact…never would be a more appropriate estimate.

He could hear Lyna’s curt and strong voice carrying over the barren road. Suspicion dripping across her tone like water, but the subject of her interrogation was still unseen. Blocked by the proud and tall figure of his Guard Captain.

“…I would not have barred your way – care little here for a person’s place of origin. But instead you chose concealment, and I will not suffer you to pass…”

“I concealed nothing. What I told you was truth.”

Something jolted through his heart. Hot and piercing and vibrant. It was colored violet. Drowning and deep. She sounded like the crystal that coated his skin. Clear. Glittering. He _ached_ to her it. At _last._

He found quick solace behind the wooden gate. Trying in vain to steady his breath. Fingers clenched tight at his sides…though all he wanted was to press them up against his mouth and just… _remember._

He was shaking. Heart fluttering in his chest like a newborn bird. Was he such a youth that he would be affected like this? So foolish and heartsick and…

For _her he was._

But the sounds of battle drew him at once out of his fumbling. Clashes of metal and the shouts of the Viis echoing over air and earth. How could he just stand here, like a simple sprout when she could be…

He took off in blur. Robes and gold jangling at his feet. The press of his staff on his back like a weight. The smell of fallen umbral elements assaulted his nose as he emerged onto that highway. The last remnants of the slain creature drifted away into the bright nothingness from which it came. He could see Lyna. Dancer reglia at her sides. The gleam of them catching the last fractures of destroyed light. Motes to disappear as sand under their feet. She had made short work of the enemy at their gates…but he struggled to breath. To appear some semblance of normalcy. To be curious and calm, and not give out an inch of the maelstrom that was inside him.

She was _here._ He could see her at last. Her back to him, face still hidden and when he stopped just a ways from her, he praised all Twelve for the hood that concealed his fierce and utterly longing flush. The way his eyes would not leave her. The way he drank her in like a man dying of thirst.

Something within him righted itself. Simply to be in her presence again.

“Everything all right Captain?”

He saw her shoulder’s tense at his cadence. Back straight and rigid as a board. Odd ears flickering. Tail swishing back and forth. With breath held tight, sucked in through his nose – the Crystal Exarch watched as Kalea slowly turned. The curve of her cheek. The flick of those long lashes. The parting of her mouth.

All of it he drowned in till he finally saw her in the flesh again.

“Quite all right my lord,” he registered Lyna saying. Her tone turning easy and affectionate with this man who was liken to a grandfather. Never had he felt so old…and so young before. Standing before both past and future in the shape of the Hero of Light. “Just a stray sin eater, and a weak one at that.”

“I see,” he replied addressing the Captain as she drew nearer. “Weak or not, we should be on the lookout for more.”

Kalea shifted. Hands at her hips as she stared at him. Furrowed brows and eyes cutting. Glittering. Piercing. Rendering him bare and open, if she could. A barely contained storm just below the surface. As wild and untamed as he’d reminisce.

Though…in truth…his memories had done a poor job holding onto her. Rendered nothing but shadows and falsehoods now. Crafted by utter loneliness and a poor man’s lost dreams. For she…Kalea was…

_She was so much more than he remembered._

He couldn’t help the smile when he turned to her. Feeling his heart might burst from his chest. Could she hear it? Feel it? Desperately he held onto the ever illusive knowledge that he needed to be impassive and composed. She was never supposed to know after all. Selfish creature he was, he wanted to bask in her.

Gods…she was _so beautiful._

“But, I see you’ve met my guest,” he said. Hardly missing a beat, though the moments had seemed to him limitless. “I will escort her to the Crystarium myself…If you’ve no objection?”

“Another of your mysterious friends, is it?” Lyna sounded exasperated. Like a parent talking to their favorite, exhausting child. “I should have known. Very well. I will inform the others your guest is to be given the run of the city.”

Shaking her head, the Captain gave her attention to the small woman near her side. The Exarch watched the length of Kalea’s neck move as she turned. The memories of his fingers across that skin suddenly and vividly blazing over his vision. He struggled desperately to put them down.

To shuffle away the roar of his blood about his ears.

“Pray forgive my less-than-cordial welcome. May the rest of your stay with us be a pleasant one.”

One corner of Kalea’s mouth tugged. A nod about her head. Hair slipping over her shoulder. He wondered when it had gotten so _long._ Or, when she started wearing it up in the messy high ponytail she sported now.

“Of course,” she said. “One can never be too careful about monsters at the gate. Though, to be fair – at least you know that I was speaking the truth. A small victory I shall gladly take.”

Lyna blinked, but gave Kalea a small bow. Moving back towards the towering shelter of the guard’s tower, the Exarch took the opportunity to take her vacant place at Kalea’s side. His voice drawing low that he might keep her confidence, though her eyes turned to watch him like a hawk. Narrowed and suspicion bare. Sharp. Blinding. Her gaze equal and perfect measures of force and beauty.

He’d missed it. Seven hells…how he’d _missed her._

“Come with me,” he said gently. He wanted to take her hand into his. The one that still beat with human blood and flesh, and not transformed by hard, unyielding crystal. He wanted her to weave their fingers together and tug at him as she had. To smile at him again.

But, he couldn’t. And it was enough…this was more than he deserved.

“I will answer whatever questions you have when we are somewhere more private.”

She raised her brows at him, but nodded all the same. Choosing to stay quiet when he turned, leading her back into the path of the Crystal Tower. To the fortress that rose sentinel and unmovable, his lighthouse within the turbulence of emotions. He could do this. He _had_ to do this. For her…for Kalea he would do…he would _be…anything._

They passed down the road in silence. The guards and their loud, boisterous voices a hushed thing of memory, when he turned back around. Slowly and stilling to meet her again. He could see her eyeing his hood. The shadowed and lost parts of his face that were hidden from her.

The chuckle he almost gave, was kept tight in his cheek. He knew she was frustrated by his concealment of identity. Though…how she kept flickering down towards his mouth was _incredibly distracting._

“Right then,” he started, waving his crystalized hand outwards towards her. “Before we plunge into the wheres and wherefores, let me first thank you for answering my summons. I _had intended_ to bring you directly to my personal quarters, but I fear my aim was…slightly off. That you were still able to make the crossing unharmed…” he swallowed the quiver in his voice at the thought of her coming to harm. Pushing it down to settle in his stomach, though a fist squeezed at his side. “…it is a great relief.”

He saw her blink. A bit taken aback by his seeming sudden emergence of care at her well-being. Arms folded underneath her breasts, she shifted on her feet. The sword at her waist clinking and jostled slightly in her movement. The Exarch’s eyes strayed to it, suddenly curious as to when she’d taken up the new craft. Or from where she’d received the shimmering silver and black armor she wore. Showing off her slender waist and rich fabric detailing. It seemed something out of the tales of Omega and he wanted to smile all over again…for her love of finery and well-tailored fabrics had not changed.

Though, there was so much about her now that he didn’t know. Things simply passed down in her legend, but he wished to discover it himself. From _her._ How much he wished that they could just talk…as they had done so long ago. He wanted to know…all about her. Everything.

But, it was never meant to be.

“And so we come to the question of where,” he continued. “The realm in which you now find yourself belongs to one of the thirteen reflections or shards – The First, to be precise – even if its inhabitants are largely oblivious to the fact. As to wherefore…Having been awarded the rather grandiose title of ‘Crystal Exarch,’ I – in my capacity as caretaker of the Crystarium – thought to seek the aid of you and your companions.”

His gaze traveled to the Tower now. To that ever glimmering pillar of refulgence, looming in the near distance. Unmistakable in its lustre. A character and a being all on its own. The Exarch heard Kalea’s sharp intake of breath. Swift and harsh through the nose. When he turned back, her tail was swaying in agitation. Eyes unmoving and hard as gems.

“Is that…” she said and his heart hurt again. An _ache_ he would never be rid of. “The Crystal Tower?”

“Indeed,” he replied merrily, hating himself a thousand times over for what must be done. “Are you familiar with it?”

“Perhaps…” was the soft response. More to herself than the man standing before her. Forlorn. Lost. Something akin to grief passed over her mouth. Turning those cherry colored corners down, but she gave no voice to these thoughts. And instead, fixed him with the ire of a growing storm. Sudden flickers of sharp and furious aether.

“Do you have _any idea_ how much trouble you’ve caused? Not to mention, the sheer exhaustion of trying to decipher a voice intent on not communicating their wishes in full.”

Oh. Oh. She was angry with him. He felt the blushing, young man again. For the first time grateful for the concealment of identity and the ears pressed flat to his head. The truth of her words cut him quick, no matter how much they might have been necessary.

“Ah, well…that…” he stumbled a bit with his words. A swallow. A bob of his throat. He could see Kalea’s eyes narrow again. Dipping once more to the curve of his mouth. _So damn distracting._ “Yes. Yes, of course you are right. I will beg your forgiveness most ardently, I assure you. But, all shall be explained in due course. I promise.”

He said the last part in a rush. Eager to give her some mote of an answer. She was silent for a moment, drumming fingers along the curve of her hip. The metal of the sword. The breeze caught the ends of her hair, dusting it across her lower back and dancing about those eyes…the same ones he wished to drown in. And suddenly, the Exarch was flashed back to their first meeting. Where he had met a young woman so utterly beautiful and capturing she was to become his very star. The guiding light on which he’d set his feet. Even now, he would forever rotate around her. Desperate… _desperate_ to keep her safe.

“Very well,” she said at last and waved a hand. “But, I will hold you to such a promise.”

“Of…of course,” he couldn’t help the smile that found a way to his lips. Despite the anguishing subjects they had yet to discuss. “So…let us begin with the glaring skies above.”

The Exarch spoke of the dire situation on the First. The press of primordial light suffocating the last few souls that remained. A flood of luminosity that had engulfed almost every alm of that world, leaving precious little left save hopelessness and grief. Running forever from the monstrosities that haunted the earth. Haunted and hunted and consumed. _Sin eaters._ The plague that sought out those last little souls to devour them.

Kalea listened to all of it. Hard brows, but eyes outlined in heartbreak. One hand pressed to her mouth. Twas not an easy thing to swallow, he understood that…but he could also see the growing resolve within her. Surely as if it was a living thing. The colors of her aether, her soul, her being – flashing out with renewed determination. Resilience now, for these people she didn’t even know…and yet would still care for. The Exarch’s heart threatened to burst again.

She hadn’t changed. No…her kindness had not changed one bit.

“It was to save the First from this menace that I learned to bridge the rift between worlds – that I might call upon the aid of the greatest of heroes. Though it meant depriving a world of its champion, I had to try – for in saving the First, you would bring salvation to the Source as well.”

Her lashes rose to meet his. Or…what she could only assume was where his own gaze lay. Hidden and shrouded from her. Swirls of violets – to meet the blood of ancients. Sanguine and glittering like rubies. The Exarch could _feel_ it. Could sense the rush that was coming to meet him. The pull of aether and the sparks that had always been there…between him and her.

The ones that made her feel like _home._

Oh gods…he had to change the subject. Had to forestall that pulse between them. She couldn’t…she _mustn’t know…_

“But, what manner of host harangues his guest in the middle of the road? Let us continue our talk within the Crystarium.” He tried for a cheerful, easy going nature. Barely passing, but it had been enough. Kalea gave a small nod, lifting her chin to peer at the Tower once more.

“Lead the way then. I want to know if…”

She didn’t finish. And nor did she have to. He prayed, begged and pleaded that he’d have the strength to give the correct reply for the question he knew was coming. When the time would arise where... _his fate_ …would be inquired of, he would do what he must. As he’d always done. Not for his sake, for that was something he would gladly trade. A thousand times over if it meant…saving her.

For Kalea’s sake, he would hide any truth and give any lie. Even if that meant he could never show himself to her again. All of it was dust at her feet. As was he. A doomed star held in her gravity. Twas only a matter of time before he burst. But...

It was enough. More than he had ever dreamed of.

The Crystal Exarch swallowed, though the smile upon his face was genuine. “Come, I will lead you in. And show you the makings of our fair city.”

* * *

Kalea couldn’t stop wondering about it. Like a persistent, nagging thought that was ill formed. Shadows and shades of ideas but never taking shape. It was infuriating. Like a song you knew, but could not remember the lyrics. Like history that’d you’d studied, only to come up blank. It was there…on the tip of her tongue and yet, she could give now voice to it. Even now, all her mind wracking and dwelling on the matter was giving her nothing. Empty.

_That man’s voice._

She knew it from somewhere. The timbers so particular. The framing and language so perfect in cadence. The way the shape of it changed when he spoke to her. It was familiar. She knew it was…but each time she tried to wrap her fingers about a solid idea, it slipped away. Like water clutched in a fist.

Kalea growled. Eyes hard and burning as she ran her hands over her face. There was magic here. Arcane structures and woven pieces involved that prevented her from the truth. Prevented her from understanding that which was right on the other side of the door. Locked and shut tight. But…s _he knew it._ As surely as the resounding pound against her chest – Kalea knew there was something here. And she was resolved to find it.

She was _aching all the same._ A soul forever missing its most important piece.

A heavy sigh released from her mouth. Shoulders almost sagging in exhaustion. The room that they’d given her was lovely. Warm. Comforting. More space than she could possibly need, though not that she minded. Never one to complain about the necessity of camping outdoors or trekking through wilds that coated boot and armor with mud and dirt…Kalea did like the amenity. The feel of a soft bed underneath her. Fire and hearth and an accommodating bath. All of those were so well presented here, in this new and foreign space, that Kalea felt a bit more at ease. If nothing else, the Crystarium and its caretaker were a hospitable sort.

The Exarch.

Kalea frowned as she thought on him. Shutting the windows and pulling the shades. Letting shadows and darkness bleed in from the corners to spread through the room. The low lit embers of the fire remaining; bathing the space in reflections of soft gold.

She could not shake the feeling that crept her spine when her wonderings swirled about him. The edge and hum and _burn_ that dug into her skin and refused to relent. She barely knew him. A stranger shadowed under guises of gentle words and guarded gestures.

And yet…and yet… _and yet…_ the tug at her chest would not relent. A strange pull that seemed to wrap red thread about her – tied to him. A hum from within her that pulled her closer. As easy and as natural as breathing. Snaps. Breaks. Pulses within a heart long sense felt.

It made her want to pull hard at her own hair, confusion and loss now her constant companion.

He seemed a kind enough man, if not a true enigma. Well respected by the people here, that much was obvious. Kalea almost smiled to herself…for it spoke of his character. The formation of his deeds and the quality of his soul. Not to mention, the eagerness at which he’d played both escort and tour guide about his home had been enduring. Like a parent so utterly proud of their child’s accomplishments, he explained with smiling lips about the interworking of the city. The unwavering spirit of those few souls that remained. Ever besieged by monsters and suffocating light, yet gave not to despair and hopelessness. Theirs was an example to be admired. Faces and small slivers of desperately held joy were engraved onto the planes of her heart. Etched and marked. Seals and promises that had become her namesake. Her crux. Her curse…and her blessing.

She would not abandon them. Of course not. Such a thing would be utterly cruel. Not when there was a chance she might save them. One less face to haunt about her dreams. A ghost to shade after her steps.

Kalea laid her katana down near the bed, fingers dragging over the beloved metal sheath even as her mind began tangled in thought. Her dressing down to her hempen smalls and camise merely a footnote in the barrage of wonderings that assaulted her.

The Exarch had answered all her questions…save the one she had desperately wanted to ask. But couldn’t. A coward. An utter and complete fool – for she was terrified of the answer. Standing on the edge of the yawning chasm that meant to swallow her whole.

If this was the Crystal Tower…then what did that mean for…where was…

“G’raha Tia,” she whispered under her breath, to no one and everything. Pressing her hands to the desperate hurt that squeezed about her heart. Hot and cold. Shards of a broken self she had locked away with him when he’d sealed the Tower. She had given him the best parts of her…freely and completely. Her friendship. Her loyalty. Her… _affection._ To never get them back. Not that she wanted it. Never. No matter the ending they’d been given…she would offer them again and again.

They had been his. They would only ever be _his._

But, that didn’t stop the sobs from breaking through. Cascaded cries as she hunched over, falling into sheets and warm blankets that smelled like him. Or at least…that’s what she imagined them to be. _Her Raha._

Her hair curled about her bare skin. Fanning out like spilled coffee. Eyes lost to the haze of her tears – for she rarely allowed anyone to see her as such. Not even the Scions. Though, Y’shtola always held in her suspects. Her quiet, supportive nature speaking aloud when she gave no words.

But here…in this place, the dam had been opened. Her affection for him burning just as vibrant and brilliant as that moment she’d seen him two years ago. He’d dug in deep into the unmovable pieces of her heart. A tree with roots wrapped around her aether. Her soul. To remove it would kill her. Never mind that the tree held no leaves. No flowers. Cherry branches bare in the winter. Kalea wondered if it would ever see spring again.

His name was mumbled on her lips as she slipped off into restless sleep. For this was _his tower._ And yet he was lost to her. As lost as the day she sobbed his name into crystal and the unbreakable fortress of glass. When she’d let him go because she _understood…_ and yet, knowing she would never be the same. The taste of him on her mouth was both bliss and ash. Desperate to feel it again.

And that night…she dreamed of him.

Hot. Everything was so _hot._ Kalea wondered if she might burn alive, the pyre a welling rush from inside her breast. His mouth was everywhere. Pressing kisses to places no one else had ever touched. Her name a whispered prayer through his lips. His fingers tangling in her long hair.

“Kalea…I’ve missed you,” he breathed. Leaning over her to puff the words over her swollen lips. “ _Wicked White_ , how I’ve missed you so much…”

“Ah, Ra… _Raha…”_

He swallowed her cries with his tongue. Delving into that moist heat to explore every part of her. Tangling together to build friction. Glorious, frustrating friction. A moan escaped her. Presses and bows of her spine to push her ample chest into his own. Heady and drunk with the knowledge that the moan from his mouth, was one she made. Her hand splayed on the bare skin of his lower back. She couldn’t get enough of him. It would never be enough.

Her hands moved to his hair. Tails wrapped about one another like a tied ribbon. She cried out when his hips pushed against her own. The feeling of him…every inch of him, desperate for her. But, G’raha took his time. Languorous and heated and _building._ Pulling away from her mouth, he drug his teeth over her neck. The curve of her collar bone. The pulse of her heart just under his lips.

“This is…mine…” he growled. Possessive. _Ravenous._ His hips rolled into hers and Kalea could only whimper in response. Mind numbing and growing with pleasure. The one he gave her.

“Yes…” she panted. She breathed. She _promised._ “Always yours. Only yours.”

His aether collided with hers. Pushing and drowning and overwhelming. And when he sunk his teeth into her skin, all she could see was red. Red like the limitless color of his eyes. His soul. The perfect pieces of his heart.

Kalea sobbed his name. Like a mantra. Her own prayer as he marked her. Deeper he plunged his essence to wrap around her soul. Changing her. Just as he’d done the moment he’d taken her hand in his. G’raha branded her as his. His tongue twining around the small flecks of blood caused by his frenzy. His voice rough and deeper than she’d ever heard it before.

“I waited for you…I would wait longer if you needed. Just to…see you again…”

His mouth descended on hers, a feeling of light headedness swirling about her shoulders. His large hands dragging down her slender sides, leaving trails of fire on her skin. A thundering stampede in her chest. Shocks and sparks and glittering aether. Everything about this was just so…

“My love…” he moaned into her mouth as his fingers found the meeting of her thighs. Swallowing her cries and whimpers when she welcomed him in. _So wet…and perfect…_

“Oh my love…I would…make you mine. I would…brand you for this age…and each one to come…”

“ _Yes…”_ Kalea pleaded. Desperate hands in his hair. Wild scratches and nails along his back. How could he possible think she would want anything else? _Anyone else?_ “You…always. G’raha Tia…it’s only ever been _you.”_

He smiled then. Feeling that he might burst from heat and pleasure and happiness. What grace had been given to him to see such a sight? The Hero of Light flushed and panting underneath him. Rolling hips and moans into his hand – thirsty and hungry and so utterly captivated.

He loved her.

He would always love her.

Alone in the Ocular, the Exarch jolted up from his bed. His heart rapid and threatening to thunder from his chest. Wild. Chaos. A blistering across his skin that wouldn’t relent.

His hands ran through his hair and he bowed into himself. Longing to feel some sort of release from the agonizing pleasure that burned through his blood like fire. That had sweated his sheets and tangled his bed.

A dream. It had just been a dream.

In that dark room lit by soft crystal, the Exarch sobbed out his heartbreak. He made quick work of his plaguing erection with hollowness. Thinking only of her and how’d she’d tasted. How she’d felt underneath him. Writhing and flushed and _perfect._

It had felt so real. Never before had his dreams manifest in things so _tangible._ The smell of citrus and lilacs almost lingering in the air. The ghost of her touch on his fingers – both flesh and crystal. And yet…all it was, was nothingness. Empty visions of a touch-starved old man. She wasn’t here…and she could never be here. Not in such ways. A wish that would never see fruition, no matter that he did love her.

With everything he had and was, and would be – he loved her.

The Exarch curled in on himself after cleaning up. Cries and tears his last companion before he fell back into oblivion.

The dreams did not return that night.

But, hundreds of meters away – tucked safe and alone in her room, Kalea jolted up from her own bed. Breath and heart and _need_ overwhelming. And with parted lips she pressed fingers to the pulse on her neck. Where the mark he’d made was still there.

His brand. His _seal._ Bright and forever scarred.

* * *

“The Exarch waits for you in his study whenever you are made available,” the Crystarium soldier gave gently, bowing as he kept eyes to the floor. This new guest of their Lord was no simple Mystel, twas plain to see. Exotic and mysterious, her eyes stripped him bare and open as she looked at him. Standing in the open doorway to her room. Tousled, mess of hair and swaying tail. How could anyone think when such a vibrant, dark lined gaze was turned in their direction?

She was pressing absent minded fingers to a mark on her skin. Where the neck and collarbone met, and if the guard didn’t know any better he could swear that such a thing looked very much like a love b-

“Did he say what time?” she asked, a single raised brow jolting him from his embarrassing assumptions.

“Ah, no…no my lady,” he stumbled. Darting back to look at his shoes. “Only at your earliest convince. He was very adamant that you obtain all the rest you should need before meeting him.”

This woman seemed lost in thought for a moment, and the guard was determined as he straightened up to keep his gaze forward. Perhaps if he stared at one of the moles at her cheek, that would keep his face from flushing into something embarrassing.

“Thank you,” she said at last. As if jolted from whatever wandering she’d stumbled into. A pleasant smile taking shape on her mouth, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I shall be on my way shortly.”

He saluted and turned on a heel, eager to deliver his message back to the Exarch. The man had been strangely fidgeting and impatient this morn, after all. Perhaps all he needed was assurance that his guest was well rested and incoming to the Ocular.

Though, _well rested_ might be an inference if the mark on her skin was what the guard assumed it to be. The man couldn’t help the childish bit of laughter that bubbled out, for whoever was warming that young Mystel’s bed as a lucky soul indeed.

Kalea watched the solider leave, straight back and hurried before she shut the door to her room again. The constant stream of primordial light flittered in through the panes of glass; sending shatters of crystalized color onto the floor. Motes of dust translucent like glitter, floated merrily in those ominous shafts. She stared at them with unblinking eyes. Pressing her back into the wood of the closed door – desperate to feel something _real_ and tangible. Her body humming alive. Raw. Painfully throbbing in places she dared not elaborate on.

Her fingers still hadn’t moved from the mark at her neck.

There were so many other things to worry about, to focus on and concern herself with; then the wonderings of desperate and heartsick dreams. She needed to find her friends. To support them in whatever troubles they had tumbled head long into, their never ending support of her the balm that always soothed the cracks in her weary soul. Gentle touches and pushes at her shoulders. Biting and teasing wit to spur along at her back. For they were her support…just as much as she was theirs.

The Scions were her family, after all. No matter their distance, nor the ever yawning rearment of the next great and terrible conflict. She would never abandon them. Enough pieces had been cut out from her heart to leave her bruised and shielded. A storm kept tight about their confines. She had made herself into a tempest.

And…yet…

She screamed aloud to nothing. Running fingers through the mess of her long hair. Tail thrashing back and forth in her agitation. She felt her heart might shatter again against her ribs. It had seemed so real…and yet, in this harsh light of day it had been nothing more than a ghost. Haunting and covering her dreams. Giving voice and manifestation to the deepest desires of her soul. To see him again. To feel him again.

To have him with her – whole and smiling and forever with his unbreaking charm.

All the things and everything else that made G’raha Tia what he was. Who he was.

All the things she had, had to say goodbye to that day, two years ago when this damn Tower stole him away. Whispers and calls of ancients that plagued him. To call him to a destiny that would save the world. Whatever world she would make for him.

Noble, wonderful, idiotic, selfless, damnable fool that he was.

 _“I would…make you mine. I would…brand you for this age…and each one to come…”_ he had promised her. His gaze all blood and oaths and garnet. He would have consumed her…and she would have let him. Easily. Willingly. Without a single hesitation.

She was already his, after all.

“Twelve save me,” Kalea whimpered. The remembrance of him over her, pressed to her, _on her_ was _everywhere._ His mouth on hers. The breaking of his teeth into her flesh. His nimble fingers at her core. She was overwhelmed with all of it. Just a dream…it had only been a dream.

She crossed the room in a furious stomp. Throwing open the windows to feel the breeze against her blistering skin. The never ending cascade of light coated her in an eerie halo. Soft and rippling through her hair. It was a sobering thought – to see it again. This world slowly being consumed by monsters and lurking umbral elements to claw bare the last remnants of this world. Kalea’s eyes hurt to look at it. Not for the overwhelming cascade of brightness; but rather that it remained. Constant and a blight to the people that deserved to see a scattering of stars. The quietness of darkness. Held aloft in an ink blue field.

“…You…?”

Kalea spun on her heel at the sound. A stranger’s echo bouncing about the room, a figure encased in shades and shadows hovering like wraith near the door. A lurking male form that stared at her with hidden curiosity. Licks of night curling about limbs like smoke.

A pop. A jolt of her aether and Kalea clutched the handle of her katana spun in her hand. Heedless of her lack of dress, but rather with gaze hard as amethyst she waited. Furrowed brows and body tense as a wound spring.

But, like morning sun burning away fog on the mountainside, the darkness melted away. Escaping to corners and pooling at his feet. A glimmering form materializing and making known to her…though Kalea did not relinquish her grip.

“I know you…” he said with a surprised expression. “You’re the Warrior of Light from the Source. Barely dressed in anything. No wonder that poor guard was so flustered.”

He shrugged to himself, completely uncaring as she bore a hole straight through the corners of his brows. Gaze furious.

“And I wonder, were you the one making all those noises last night? Whispers of some form of _G’raha Tia_ under your breath? One night here and already having trouble with…”

“Are you not the Warrior of Darkness?” she bit out, pulling her lip above the glare of her teeth. The storm of her aether turbulent and incensed. She could do nothing about the blush on her cheeks however. Pushing memories away as quickly as she could. Though his voice still clambered about in her head. “Care to explain what you’re doing here? In my room?”

The man’s head snapped to hers so quickly it was as if her words physically struck him. “What?” he stammered, voice wavering with emotion. “Did you just…You can hear me?!”

Kalea raised a brow. “Is there someone else I could possibly be speaking to?”

But he was lost to a rambling. Intent on her gaze. His own face filled with unrestrained relief.

“Oh, gods…how long has it been…? And yet here you are…addressing me. Tis too good to be true. What if – what if I am…”

A swallow. A flicker of wild eyes before he struggled to right himself. “Aye…aye…that was what I called myself in your world. The ‘Warrior of Darkness.’ My real name is Ardbert. I used an alias in the Source. A daft one, looking back. And if you recall my tale, it was my comrades and I who caused the Flood.”

The fingers around her katana lessened. A shift and sway on her feet. Kalea relaxed her stance if only for a moment. Listening instead to the weary and worn tale of a soul lost adrift in a sea of nothingness. A century…he’d grieved. With only his own presence to soothe the cracking balm at his hands. With only his own voice to keep him company. His sole remnant, leaving a ghost to bear witness.

“My hands fine no purchase,” he whispered, staring at gloved fingers. Voice soft as the blurred lines of his edges. “My gestures catch no eye. And my please, be they murmurs or screams, reach not a single ear…I am a shade. Cursed to do naught but drift.”

“So you used such an opportunity to spy on me?” her hands found a resting place at the curve of her hips, tail twitching. Watching at he turned back to look at her.

“I felt like a fish being reeled in, and before I knew it, I found myself in this room. Twas no fault of mine that you were moaning and thrashing about. Dare I ask…who is _G’raha Tia?_ ”

Kalea’s eyes turned sharp and violent. The full force of that powerful gaze glistened out with the full weight of her aether. The color of her shape and make. The storm that represented the Hero of Light.

“He is none of your business.”

“Aye, alright, alright,” he relented quickly. Hands raised before himself in surrender. Toppled back a step, and almost reeling from the hues that swirled within the borders of her lashes. “Then I would ask another…more important question. Why is it that _you_ can see me? What are you even doing here, come to that?”

“My friends and I were summoned here, by the Lord of this city. The Caretaker of the Crystal Tower,” she explained feeling her ire recede. The holy subject of G’raha Tia was one even the Scions trended upon with gentleness, if at all. “He hopes…that we might be able to save the First.”

“A waste of time,” Ardbert replied quickly, though it was layered in tones of melancholy. “This world is beyond saving – like those who try to save it. Muddled as my mind may be, I have not forgotten that.”

“You’ll forgive me if I still try,” she replied evenly. “I have a rather stubborn streak.”

A deep breath from this restless slow and a long moment of quiet before he spoke again. “But, if fate has brought me to you – the one person on this godsforsaken world who can see and hear me – then perhaps there’s a reason I endured. Perhaps I can find out why I was left behind, then maybe…maybe I can bring this journey of mine to an end.”

“Perhaps,” Kalea tilted her head. Feeling her hair sway against her back. Fingers straying without thought to the mark on her skin. “If I might discover the reason, I will do so. I will help you Ardbert. If I can. I do not wish this to be your fate.”

The man blinked, seemingly taken by surprise. His brows raised towards his unkempt hairline before a small burst of laughter issued from his lips. “That altruistic soul of yours will get you into trouble one of these days.”

She frowned, but he waved another hand. Shaking his head as if to dislodge the cobwebs about it. “Forgive me. It’s been…much too long since I was able to practice any semblance of a conversation. I grow tired from it.”

He turned from her, the great axe at his back making not a sound. Nor did his feet upon the marble. A spirit made of light and shade. Forgotten and unseen by all save one.

“Well, I’ll be watching you. Warrior of Light. Though…not too closely. I promise.”

He sounded sincere and…exhausted. His movements slow and slurred as he headed towards the door. Heavy shoulders that bore a weight he knew not what to do with. Before she could reply, Ardbert was gone. Disappeared as quiet and silence as the manner of his arrival. Leaving her alone once more with her thoughts.

The space was undisturbed, save for the sounds of a muted city drifting in through the window. The desperate hopes of a Crystal world and her occupants. And now…one more life to add to their mix. Another soul yearning for redemption. For salvation. For the smallest piece of hope.

Kalea moved to dress quickly. She had kept the Exarch waiting long enough. Though…her fingers pressed one last time to the spot at her neck. Something shocking and electrifying rolling up her spine. Aether that tasted… _red._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I have had endless support from the brilliant Khione_North and Arynn (go check them out at ONCE if you have not already) I wanted to post a little early than I intended. Kalea wears the Omega Gabison of Striking in jet black and 2B boots just in case you were wondering. Why the boots? Because shoes are important and we're AU anyways at this point, might as well give myself the matching outfit I need >.>
> 
> As always, and forever thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for your love for this. You keep me going, powering through stupid writer's block. I can't thank you all nearly enough.
> 
> Mahalo


	4. Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes
> 
> Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts…”
> 
> The Tempest, Act 2: Scene 1

_“What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes_

_Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts…”_

  * **_William Shakespeare, The Tempest_**



****

“Ah, how did you find your new quarters? I trust you were able to rest?”

For the hundredth time since her arrival, the Exarch was thankful for the hood that shadowed his face. Lips parting and cheeks staining as he watched Kalea walk into the Ocular. It was hard…desperately so, not to think on his dreams from last night. How her skin felt underneath him. How her hips fit so perfectly against his own. Her panting cries and fervent pleas swallowed by his tongue and mouth. In dreams, G’raha Tia did what he’d never had the courage to do before.

To worship her. To pleasure her. To… _love her._

But, he had to remember that’s all it had been.

Just a dream.

“Well enough,” Kalea replied with a polite smile. The Exarch watched her shift, a sway from side to side. Tail moving in tandem with her. Fingers rubbing a space at her neck, covered by leather and armor. “I appreciate your hospitality.”

“How…How could I possibly do otherwise?” he responded, feeling emotion bloom like a flower in his chest. How was it that each time he saw her, she overwhelmed him? Her eyes were searching the hidden parts of him again. The lines of his face. The shape of his jaw.

The Exarch swallowed, clinging to the small, but crucial hope that Urianger’s frail illusion spell would hold. A small distortion, fortified by his strength to the Tower that kept her from connecting this old crystalized paradox, to the rambunctious smiling man of Mor Dhona. His voice, would be the first thing to give away…so he had decided. Keeping him hidden from her. The truth…it was a heavy, heavy thing.

“I was the one who summoned you and your companions here,” he tried for a grin, though almost took a step back when she moved forward. Clicks of her heel on the crystalline floor. “I have placed a massive burden on your shoulders. If there is anything…anything at all you require, you have but to ask.”

She stopped just in front of him and his heart _ached._ His fingers itching to take her into him. Pressed against his chest; the planes of his heart. To just be…bare for her. To remove shade and spell and half-truths and present her with what he was. Who he was.

Just a man. Desperately in love with her.

But he couldn’t. No matter how much he wished…for the fate of these stars, for her own _life_ he would suffocate any selfish desires for her. No matter how sorely he was tempted.

“I bombarded you with a great deal of information yesterday,” he began waving a hand. “But I was able to also contact your companions, informing them of your long awaited arrival. Whether or not you travel towards Alphinaud or Alisaie is entirely up to you…but your friends were greatly relieved to hear of your safety. I shall not regale you with the tongue lashing Alisaie in particular gave me when she learned of where my summoning spell placed you. Far outside the Crystarium’s boundaries.”

She smiled at him. A half corner thing that made her lips curve. His eyes dropped to their shape.

“That does sound like her,” Kalea shrugged. A half mix of exasperation and poorly concealed fondness. “I do not envy the lecture I am sure you received when she was first arrived.”

“Ah. No, no,” the Exarch couldn’t help his laugh then. A strangled, barking sound. It caused Kalea’s eyes to flicker about him. “She was…not pleased. But, regardless of whatever insults I so gravely caused her – she was determined to set about fixing the fate of this tortured world. The halting of the Eight Umbral Calamity. All of them were.”

Kalea hummed in agreement. Ears pressed to her hair about in her thoughts. It gave the Exarch precious moments to admire her. Her hair pulled back again in that long high ponytail. Her armor form fitting and glittering black and silver. The sword at her hip.

“Pray forgive me,” he interjected unable to leave it without learning… _something new_ about her. “I have heard stories of you; read multiple volumes and such matter on the subject…in _ah only preparation_ of course, as I spoke of last night. But…” he gestured to the weapon, innocently sleeping at its place in the scabbard. “I had heard the Warrior of Light was a White Mage? Was my information inaccurate?”

“Why do you ask?” she queried and that small tugging smile appeared on his face when he fumbled.

“Mild-mild curiosity is all, I assure you…if you are uncomfortable sharing things with me, I…I…understand, but it was only…”

“I am jesting with you,” she laughed. A bright sound that would, had his ears been seen, cause them to turn at the joyful overtones. He loved it…cherished it.

“This was a skill I picked up in Kugane,” Kalea replied. “I am proficient enough at it. Though, the rumors hold some sort of merit for I am a White Mage. To be honest…if you need an additional healer here within the Crystarium, I would be honored to do so. I do not sit well knowing that there are others that might benefit from my abilities. Especially…especially given the gravity of your situation here on the First. I was told…this world had had enough of heroes. But, maybe healers would be…”

She shrugged. Waving a hand and clearing her throat. Her violet eyes strayed toward other parts of the Oculus. Focusing on the small etching of gold. Whirls of colored class crafted in memorium that sung of an ancient people.

“I will be whatever you need me to be my Lord. For the people of this star.”

The Exarch’s chest swelled. Pride and inspiration and affection growing alive with each beat of his heart. He had been right yesterday…when he’d seen her again after all these years of _waiting._

She had wrapped herself in layers of storms and arcane, aether that touched cold at times and tinged with grief. But, in all the core parts of who she was…nothing had changed.

Kindness and compassion. Humility and unwavering confidence. Resolve and an unbreakable spirit. Those were the foundations on which she had built herself.

“Just Exarch is more than fine. If anyone deserves a title here, it is you,” he whispered, not bothering to keep the affection from his voice. Unaware that it was this tonal sound that drew her gaze back to him. Brows and eyes narrowed. “And thank you. Truly. I will let the Matron in charge know to expect you. Once you return from seeing the Twins and proper rest of course. I can speak for her in saying it would be most welcomed.”

“I think I shall see Alphinaud first,” Kalea thought aloud. Folding her arms under her breasts which did… _marvelous things_ to their shape. The Exarch swallowed thickly. “Not that I doubt his abilities, but Alisaie is more renowned for her martial skills. I…I worry about him. And while I appreciate the sentiment, I have had more than my fill of titles. Kalea, Exarch. I would…like it if you would call me by my name.”

His lips parted slightly. Breath and sighs and heart snaps. With such a thing awakening between them it was all he could do to hold onto his nod. “I…thank you. I would be honored to call you as such.”

She smiled at him. The first one that touched about her eyes.

“With regards to Alphinaud, I shall see to your passage at once,” he replied. Clearing his throat and moving to lead her from the room. A swish of robes and fastenings echoing over the surface. “I will not delay you. Let us see to the Amaro Keeper and –“

“There was one more thing,” she broke through, causing him halt. Wavering on feet before turning back. Curious as to the nature of the stare she leveled at him. Blazing and fierce. As if he was a puzzle she was determined to solve.

“What is it Kalea,” he asked. A tilt to his hooded head.

“Tell me about the origin of this Tower.”

A demand. Her domineering nature pushing through, though her voice wavered on something. He found himself floundering for just a moment before he nodded.

“Of course,” he started. “With regards to the Crystal Tower, you may have noted that details were sparse. The structure is, in fact, the selfsame one you know from the Source, transported to the First in its entirety. It was my first attempt at breaching the boundaries between worlds – something of a trail run for your eventual crossing. And although I do not know which era I tore it from, I _do_ know that its arrival served to set the wheels of fate in motion.”

“Just like that?” her lashes fell and dipped to the floor before returning again. This time there was no mistaking the look about her eyes when she asked her next question. It shattered him…for he knew what was coming.

“Then… _G’raha Tia is_ …?”

A swallow. A resolve that took absolutely everything he had even as he broke to pieces underneath crystal and skin.

“…I am not familiar with that name. Is there something I should know?”

“I-I…” now it was her turn to stumble. Rubbing and arm and looking suddenly so lost that the Exarch almost cried out for her. Remaining still and unmoved as stone, every inch of his skin _crawled._ Rejected him. Admonished him. How could he possibly just _stand there_ while the woman he was _desperate for_ told a whispered story. One about a boy who had been her most cherished friend. Who had overcome trials and monsters and plagues upon the crystal to awaken a destiny; long dreamed of by ancients. Who had locked himself away in a tower. To sleep and never return to her again.

“An extraordinary tale.” He hated himself. He _hated what he had to do._ How could she not hear his heart snapping to pieces? Was it not as audible as the rushing in his ears? Fingers tightening on his staff, for it was the only thing that might keep him grounded as he watched her face fall. Her grief and sorrow and utter regret reflected with such potency within her eyes, he could barely keep from screaming.

To hold her.

To kiss her.

To tell her…to tell her _everything…_

“I am afraid I found no such individual residing in the tower when it passed into my care. Mayhap we can revisit that mystery another time. For now, I think it best that we focus on the present.”

She nodded. Mute. Curls and loose tendrils falling over her face as her lashes lowered. Fingers once more moving to a space at her neck. She didn’t speak again.

The Exarch turned to lead her from the room. Shadowed face hidden and away…if nothing else so she wouldn’t see the tears that escaped, running unhindered paths to the lines of his jaw.

No. She could never know the truth.

It was better this way.

* * *

She didn’t dream of him again.

In Eulmore, where sleep was chaotic and filled with rotting nightmares even when awake, all that met her was darkness. That town was like a tomb. All glorified with flowers, marble and wailing petitioners on the outside. Their mourning and sobs so loud that resonated within the head. And yet nothing but decaying corpses littering the walls from within. Dead faces and lost souls, already succumbed to meaningless pleasure and nothingness. Wasting away their last days in idle sport, drunk on wine and hopelessness. It both infuriated and tugged at Kalea’s sympathy.

But, Alphinaud had been there. Determined to get into the city. Set on a path towards his goal, nothing to waver him. To discover more about the Lightwardens. The Sin Eaters. To find a way to bring Eulmore’s cursed days to an end both for the citizens left to wander in an inescapable flood of despair…and those crucified to hunger and poverty on the outside.

For Kalea, it had been only been a month since she’d last seen him awake – but when he stepped through that shabby inn door in Amity the smile that bloomed on her face was genuine. He looked very much the same, cherub cheeks and finely managed white hair, if not a bit haggard. As if he hadn’t slept for a full night in weeks. Perhaps even a year.

“Look Alphinaud,” Theva the barkeeper waved a merry hand in her direction. As if the prospect of a new face was something she hadn’t seen in a fortnight. “I have a new customer! And a lovely one that that. Might she be a friend of yours? She said as much.”

Kalea had long looked at Alphinaud as the younger brother she’d never had. Everything they had been through together, had solidified bonds of familiarity fiercer than anything tied in blood. She was protective of him, ready to be both his shield and overbearing sibling should whatever need arise. But, in that moment when his eyes found her sitting at the weary and worn table – Kalea knew which roll he would need her to be.

All of them.

“Tis so good to see you my friend,” he cried as he threw his arms about her shoulders. Clutching tightly to her, afraid she might fade away if he did not. “It seems ages since we last spoke…and even longer for me, if you count the days I have spent here. But the time has only added to the relief I feel, seeing you safe and well.”

Somewhat taken back, Kalea recovered quickly. Returning his embrace along with soft, steady pats at his back. Feeling the dampness of his tears on the bare skin at her shoulder.

“A year has been enough time to turn you into quite the sentiment I see,” she smiled when he pulled away at last. A tilt on her head and hair brushing along her chin. “But, I have missed you too Alphinaud. Truth be told, I was more worried about _you_.”

He laughed, shaking both his tears and the grief from his eyes. They were unneeded now. For she was finally here. Just as the Exarch had said. “Indeed. I’m afraid I’m growing soft in my time here. Do not tell Alisaie.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” she hummed and he smiled at her. Feeling lighter than he had in months. If nothing else, her presence a balm to his ripped and weary soul. For he was braver…with her beside him.

And they would both need it. For Eulmore swallowed up both soul and hope. Plucking them out to wink from existence. A light drowned world coated in darkness. Spoiled from the inside. A rotten and tainted apple.

Even once they had made it in, to that gilded city and pulled back the curtain – it had awaken nightmares. A grotesque creature seemingly human sat in disgusting squander at its head. Lording over this false paradise with the very monsters that wrought its destruction at his side. Kalea couldn’t believe it…fingers tightening on her sword and staff when she’d seen them littered about the throne room.

Sin Eaters. Dozens of them.

All docile and mewling as kittens before this jut of rotting flesh. This Prince of Eulmore. _Vauthry._

“Eulmore is a city built on love for one’s fellow man. Those who have naught to give and live only to take are a blight upon our society!” the mound of pale flesh and curling yellow hair boomed out to the throngs of gathered faces. Kalea flashing the sharp lines of her teeth in a fierce growl, even as Alphinaud stood before him. They had tried, _he had tried,_ desperately to come into to this city to find help for the bleeding world around them – lost to this ever flooding light where not even shadows could flee to find refuge in corners, and this is what they found instead?

A Lord who cracked open his subjects and bled them onto the floor? Who stole and preached and swelled with such pride that he oozed sin like a poison? It was too much. Far too much. Kalea’s blood roared with her chest at the thought of it.

The young mystrel they had helped to enter this seemingly great paradise, to try and escape from the choking weeds of poverty was sobbing and crying in the middle of that dais. His own life blood staining the gold under his shivering limbs. For this was why Lord Vauthry had gathered them here. The citizens mind-numb and too weak to protest, too complacent to object to their shallow society were to watch this helpless man’s death by Sin eaters.

Devoured. Another light lost to nothingness.

Kalea and Alphinaud’s feet moved in tandem.

White Magic bubbled up with unwavering brilliance. Her calling. The resounding echo of her soul. She pressed that curing balm into Kai-Shirr’s skin. Even as Alphinaud stood like a pillar before this false god. This creature of greed and gluttony.

“Tis true that Kai-Shirr won his place here by fraud. My friend and I helped him, for his actions were driven only by a desire to share in your paradise! That you would cast him out, I could almost accept – but to humiliate him thus? To demand his very _life?!_ Is this truly the way of Eulmore?”

“Oh, you dim, deluded child…” Vauthry simpered out with a condescending shake of his head. “Have you ever paused to consider what it takes to maintain such a paradise in this barren, broken world of ours? The guarantee of safety and stability. The knowledge that if one only _abides by the rules,_ one has naught to fear. I alone can offer these things. For I, alone, can command the sin eaters. And thus, _I alone_ the voice of justice! And any who oppose me villains to be punished!”

There was a resounding scattered applause behind them. Eulmore’s unmasked citizens giving their Lord a resounding acceptance of his horrible deeds. Lost in mindless despair – what else could they do?

“And you would call this place a paradise!” Kalea bit out when the sound trailed off. Dusted and snapped away by the force of her aether. Her gaze that she pierced Vauthry with. “The Crystal Exarch has brought stability and safety to the people of his domain, all without such cruel and corrupt actions as you have taken here! The only thing matching of your size in this room, Lord Vauthry your ignorance and vile nature!”

“You would… _dare speak to me of him?_ ” Vauthry seethed. His small black eyes, glimmering like hard beetles stuck in a pound of flesh. They trailed over Kalea’s body as she stood, the pop of her soul crystal as her fingers found the weight of her katana at her hip. Alphinaud helping the drained, but restored Kai-Shurr to his feet.

“And who are you to him? To that illusive idiot who locks himself away in the Crystal Tower? He is nothing – _nothing in comparison to me!_ Would you be his whore? A pretty thing merely good for warming his bed, and tousling his sheets?”

He licked his lips and let the sly grin grow on his face. “Does he get to _fuck you?_ I can offer you so much more than that old man, little siren. I might even forgive the grave trespasses you and your companions have made here, an open invitation to our own sweet divine garden if you would just…”

“D-do not speak to her like that!” Alphinaud blushed out with ferocity. Hard and angry gaze, despite the color blooming on his cheeks. Kalea remained immovable as stone, though the flash of her eyes was turbulent as a storm. Vauthry kept his wide, toothing smirk.

“You were granted a place in my city for a particular skill. What was it?” he asked, turning to Alphinaud.

“Painting.”

“Oho, an artiste! Then you shall paint a picture for me. Of Eulmore. With your friend here stripped to showcase my glorious influence. We can send it back to the Exarch as a parting gift.”

“Come Alphinaud,” Kalea snapped with burning violets leaving the swollen, disgusting creature behind her. Taking Kai-Shurr’s arm instead, returning to White Mage magic that she might give him the strength to escape from this place. This den of snakes and vipers.

“What are you doing?” Vauthry flailed as Kalea turned from him without a single glance of recognition. As if he was nothing more than a slug about her heel. “Where do you think you are going?! I offered you a place at my side! I offer you salvation! I told you to paint me a _picture!”_

Kalea continued her unwavering pace towards the doors, not a single soul barring her way. In fact, they parted before her like the break of water on a rock. The young mystrel taking shelter in her presence. But, Alphinaud turned over a shoulder to look at the man seated upon the throne. Throwing a fit and waving his massive arms in the air like a child.

“What you need is a mirror, not a painting,” he replied. “It will capture the horror I see before me far better than I ever could.”

And with that he left. Spun on his heel to keep safe his friend’s back. Head aloft and disgust tainting his tongue.

“Did…did that little worm just insult _me?_ ” Vauthry stuttered. Shock and realization awaking on his face. A scream. Rantings. Ravings. Shouts and curses flown from his mouth as his subjects watched in horrified silence. “I – I – I’ll kill them! I’ll – I’ll kill them all! I’ll enslave their minds! I’ll – I’ll torment them – torture them! I’ll take that woman for my own! From the Exarch! And then tear out their hearts!”

He pounded his fist upon the floor, wailing his echoed screams. His tantrums never ending. A haunting refrain that followed them even as they escaped the city. Leaving Eulmore with the taste of ash in their mouths. A shudder down the spine. Kalea shook out her hair and pressed fingers to her temples as Alphinaud said his goodbyes to Kai-Shurr and the one bright lights in that whole blackened place, the Chai’s. The doting couple that had offered them succor and, what they thought had been sanctuary in the first place.

They didn’t stay long. For they were both eager to get out of the shadow of that city. Back to the safe haven that was the Crystal Tower. Kalea never able to truly alleviate the fear…of being watched.

* * *

“He called her my – my _what?”_

The Exarch fumbled with the letters that had been in his crystalized hand, scattering their reports upon the floor. Alphinaud bent to help pick them up, even as he nodded. Grinding his teeth against his jaw.

“Your _whore._ He said she was merely here to warm your bed, asking her questions of your relationship of such a base nature, I shall not repeat them.”

The Exarch swallowed, feeling heat both furious and ardor in nature crawl up his neck. He would have slapped a hand over it, if not for his hood.

“He then offered for her to have him instead! Disgusting. As if the first thought wasn’t ridiculous enough,” Alphinaud continued, passing the belongings back into the man’s hands. Unware of the hard swallow at the Exarch’s throat. His own anger blinding enough.

“I cannot believe that such a man is Lord of that city. That it is he, who holds such massive sway and power over that region. Forgive me…I had gone there to try and discover the location of the Light warden, and all I caused was trouble for Kalea. And for you.”

“Do not be so hard on yourself Alphinaud,” the Exarch gave a gentle smile in response. “Lord Vauthry has proven himself a man corrupt and repulsive and twisted to cruelty, but your actions are nothing to be ashamed of. I am sure Kalea knows this.”

The young Elezen nodded mutely, eyes following his foot as it scuffed along the floor.

“And pray no mind at all to any troubles that might arise here from Eulmore,” he continued with resolve. With such confidence that Alphinaud felt the weight pulling a little less from his shoulders. “It is a disappointment – to say the least, in Lord Vauthry’s conduct, but we will determine a solution I am sure of it. You and your friends are more than capable.”

Alphinaud nodded and gave the man a small smile. One that was returned with a nod.

“But…ah, Kalea,” the Exarch began, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. “Did she not return with you?”

“She continued towards Amh Araeng to see Alisaie,” Alphinaud replied, unaware of the Exarch’s equal relief at her continued safety and regret that he would not see her sooner. “She said she would return within a few days. And I received a call from my sister. Things in that region are…not looking well.”

“No,” the Exarch replied gravely and tightened his fingers on the metal of his staff. A foreboding blooming under his skin. Uneasiness and unsettled. “But, let us keep watch for them. In the meantime, I will try and contact the rest of the Scions. Thancred, in particular. I am sure they are eager to see her again – as you were.”

All the young boy could do was smile. The strange knowledge that they would all be together again soon, giving him comfort. Balms to the sorrowful ache that Eulmore had placed upon him. The Exarch was right of course – he had his own tasks to see to. A resolution taking over instead of weariness.

“I will go to the Cabinet of Curiosity then,” he said. “A more through research might be just what is needed. Particularly about the influx of umbral elements in the region of Eulmore. I want to look a little further back into their history.”

“Tis a solid idea. Let me know if I can be of any assistance.”

Alphinaud nodded and left the Ocular, giving a small wave before shutting the door with a resounding clasp behind him. Alone again, the Crystal Exarch staggered. Placing the stack of guard reports near the steps at his feet. Running a hand over the lines of his face.

Where was this strange… _possessiveness_ coming from? This unbridled feeling to rip Vauthry’s throat out at even daring to not only insult Kalea and widdle her down to nothing more than a vessel for his sexual desires – but to even suggest that he would…for Vauthry to even _look at her that way…_

Ferocious. A snarling, _pure-male growl,_ ripped from his throat. He knew it was foolish. He knew that she didn’t _belong to him._ Not now. Not when he had given up any right to even look at her…not when he had hidden the truth. The shape and nature of who he was.

Not when he had kept silent on the very crux of his soul. The love of her. The adoration. The feeling that wasn’t done justice by simple words. Kept safe and forever growing, like swells of ocean. Currents of her violet colored aether. Like a seed planted to grow into something ageless.

But that didn’t stop him from fuming. From placing a crystalized hand to his chest and feeling his own magics well up within him. The ones that snapped red – as deep and as pure as the blood thrumming his veins. Blood of the ancients. The blood of the guardian of this Tower. The one he would openly give and spill before her. To worship at her feet.

In Amh Arang, Kalea let loose a small gasp. The jolt shivering up her spine to pool along the base of her stomach. Fingers moving to press against the mark on her neck.

The one he had branded her with.

It tingling alive as if his own fingers clutched and trailed over her skin.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarification for why Kalea doesn't recognize lovely, Crystal Grandpa because to me - the moment he opened his mouth she'd be like, "Oh. I know you." Haha
> 
> Updates will now be a few days in between, but thank you forever and ever for the love here for this fic. You all are the best and greatest of muses. I just can't even...*dies from happiness*
> 
> Mahalo


	5. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are such stuff as dreams are made on,   
> and our little life is rounded with a sleep.” 
> 
> The Tempest, Act IV: Scene 1

_“We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.”_

  * **_William Shakespeare “The Tempest”_**



The sky was glittering. Like velvet studded with gems. An endless, sunless sea that rolled in waves of ebony, reflected like an obsidian mirror in the planes of the ever reaching Crystal Tower. A blanket covering this weary star so that they might finally sleep.

Kalea had forgotten what such a sight looked like.

“I missed this,” came a voice beside her elbow, a long weary sigh as they collapsed into the chair beside her. “I suppose the saying is true, that you take for granted things that you think shall always be there. Who knew the night sky would fall into such a category?”

Kalea turned her head slightly, still keeping her chin resting on the palm of her hand. Thancred had taken up residency in the seat beside her. Reclining back, balancing perfectly with the push of his booted foot – even as he stared out at the spattering of stars.

His surprise return to the Crystarium had been a welcome one. His prideful manner, and bold professes of ability had turned into something softer since she’d last seen him. Richer and deeper. Rugged edges smoothing out into unwavering confidence. Something secure and solid to lean on.

Kalea suspected it had something to do with the young girl he’d brought in his wake. With clouded eyes and sharing Minfilia’s name. Who looked at Thancred with the gaze of child to parent.

“They certainly deserve the celebration. You’ve given them hope, Kalea. It is…a well fought thing.”

She turned to look out among the courtyard, kept under the dutiful eye of the Tower. Illuminated by the light of the moon. A celestial body that gave out its pale reverence to every soul making merry in the Crystarium. Their laughter contagious and infectious. Their songs plentiful and insistent. If anyone had earned the right to moments of merriment…it was these kind people.

Her defeat of the Light warden at Holminster Switch had opened the gates to a world never see by this star in a century. To rip back the curtain and lay monsters to rest, only to find a quiet dark underneath. One littered and spattered with soft gems. Stillness and peace and the promise of simple _rest._

“Should I call you…the Warrior of Darkness now?”

She fixed him with a look. A raised brow and piercing, swirling stare.

“Only if I may call you Uncle Thancred, or another such title.”

The man merely let loose a chuckle. The back and forth motion creaking the wooden chair as he rocked. She dropped into muted silence, running a finger about the rim of her untouched glass. Watching the city swirl and hum in happiness about them. The twins were bickering, not so quietly near the table of soft, delicate desserts even as the culinarian bubbled out laughter at them. Hands outward and soothing tones to settle their ever circular disputes. Some things, Kalea thought fondly, never change.

“He stares at you when you’re not looking,” Thancred said breaking the silence. Kalea coughed out from her drink, turning at him with furrowed brows and a confused gaze. The Hyur bobbed his head, his chin leaned into the direction of the Crystal Exarch. The quiet enigma held to the edges of the carousel, leaning on his staff in quiet contentment. His shadowed face encased in shadow. The edges of the crystal that trailed up his jaw shimmering in the moonlight like reflections on a lake.

The people gave him a wide berth, filled with an ever mixing blend of awe and deep respect. There was something in Kalea’s heart panged, _aching_ to see him. Alone in a sea of people.

But at such a statement she frowned. Violet eyes catching starlight in flashes of hardening. Like metal cooling in a bath of ice. “What do you mean?”

Thancred shrugged. “Just as I said. He seems very fond of you. All these soft smiles and wistful sighs that he gives to no one else. If I could see his face, I am sure his eyes would never leave you.”

Kalea huffed in response; thoughts tangled. Fingers covering her mouth. There it was. That feeling again…that she was missing something about this man. This figure cloaked in crystal and gold, shadows and magic. Just on the tip of her tongue, to only fumble with language. It was infuriating.

“What do you know about him?” she wondered.

A half shrug. “I imagine little more than you do. The people here adore him, though as you’ve seen they are still rather… _scared of him_. I think it’s the hood.”

She snorted. An unlady-like sound, even as she watched the Exarch with covered eyes.

“But I do know…he can be trusted. Call it, an intuition. He has angered Y’shtola to no end, but do not let that sway you. I have no doubt his reasoning for bringing the Crystal Tower here and altering the future of our stars are nothing save for the salvation of others. For…to save you, Kalea.”

“I have decided to trust him,” she replied evenly, pushing her drink away. “But…Thancred there is something _unknown about him._ I cannot describe it, nor can I give voice to it. It is if…as if _I know it_ and yet cannot _remember it!_ I will to speak to Urianger once we see him. There are secrets here and I am determined to discover them. About the Crystal Tower and the Exarch. What if…”

“I looked for him you know,” Thancred whispered then gently. Her head turned to him so quickly she thought her neck might snap. But her friend was somber and soft. He didn’t speak the name…for it was carved into each plane of her heart. “When I first arrived. I searched the Tower. I wanted - I wanted to give you some good news when you arrived. I know… _what he meant to you.”_

Kalea’s lashes flickered, along with the flattening of her ears to her hair. She turned away from him, unable to see the break in his eyes when he told her. It echoed the same that was trapped in her breast.

“Forgive me, but I found nothing. It was like…he disappeared. Like smoke on the water.”

Fingers pressed to her the small space above her collarbone. Eyes lost to stare at everything…and nothing. Kalea was quiet, for the longest of moments. It was not like she expected anything different. Any outcome that might lead to _a happy ending_ , but there had been some small measure of her still holding onto the bright pearl of her last resort.

The hope that she had. Rooted in her unwavering affection for G’raha Tia.

This didn’t change it. Nothing could move the solid formation and imprinting he grown into her. His friendship. His charm. His unwavering kindness and selflessness. She would never let go of it. All the days on this star, or any other.

But that didn’t mean such a revelation did not slice through her all the same.

“Thank you,” she said at last and turned to smile at him. Sadness and grief. And yet…gratefulness for companions she did not deserved was showcased in each curve of her mouth. In the softness of rounded full lips turning together. “Thank you for trying.”

He nodded solemnly, and in a rare show of familia affection clapped a hand to her shoulder. It jostled her a bit and drew a small laugh from that breaking heart. The sound almost foreign in her throat, no matter how sincere.

“I will go see to Minfilia,” he said at last standing slowly and eyes turning out into the crowd for the bobbing blond hair of his new traveling companion. The young girl had managed to join the Twins at the far side of the courtyard. Smiling widely at each plate Alisaie offered to her. Listening with the rapt attention of a child when Alphinaud would break into their chemistry’s and baking formation.

“At least let her finish a few more before she is carted off to bed,” Kalea gave a half grin. Shaking her head. Hair drifting about her neck and back. She didn’t notice the small turn of the Exarch’s head at the movement. But, Thancred did. “She had little opportunity to appreciate such specialties locked as she was in Eulmore’s dungeon.”

“You’re not supposed to have sweets so late in the evening,” he huffed out a reply – though promptly blushed when she broke out in full laughter.

“Such a father you’ve become Thancred. I must say…it suits you.”

“Oh, shut it. You sound like Y’shtola.”

She laughed again as he left her table. Her merry tones ringing in his ears. He felt his own grin forming, though he would not let her see it. Not giving her the satisfaction of seeing her assessment to fruition. No matter how sorely he was tempted when the young Minfilia cheered out at his arrival, promptly stuffing a bite of cake into his mouth before he could get a word in edgewise. Alisaie merely snorted and passed them both another. Completely disregarding Thancred’s protests.

No one could deter her after all.

“Kalea…if I may?”

The Exarch stood just aways from her. Fingers tightening on his staff and small smile about his mouth. Half encased in shadow, the crystal of his form catching shafts of moonlight to glitter about skin. He looked like a ghost. A celestial spirit sent to visit this forgotten and hurting star.

She hummed in response and set her chin in the palm of her hand once more as he took Thancred’s vacant seat. He settled besides her, almost as if uncertain at first how someone would normally respond in company. But the hand nearest hers twitched. Fingers curling into the air of the chair as if searching for something to hold.

“Please allow me to…thank you again,” he started, teeth catching starlight when he smiled. Sincere and genuine. “I have not seen them thus in…such a long time. Hope rekindled when there was none. Destruction and death, soothed and comforted by a blanket of stars. As both the keeper of this place and - just a simple man in awe of you, I am forever grateful for your assistance.”

“You do not have to thank me,” she replied dropping her hands to weave them together. Pressed between the flesh of her thighs, leaning forward as she watched the world roll by. Hair slipping down the planes of her back, the column of her neck.

The Exarch swallowed.

“I have seen how broken this world is. And, I have seen the suffering endured by its people. What happened in Amh Araeng…”

But she stopped and her lashes moved. Up. Down. A slow steady breath. They never talked about the waking nightmares she and Alisaie had witnessed in that place. A desert of abominations. Of light drowning and mutilating the last veins of comfort, choked and strangled.

No. And they never would.

“I believe in what you are doing, Exarch. And…I trust you. More than enough to follow your direction. If you say killing the Light Wardens and absorbing their essence will end the suffering here. Then, I will do it. The evidence of the sky above more than proof enough to solidify your claims. I have long decided to be what these people need me to be. I will do whatever I can to see that your faith in me does not give you disappointment.”

“Even, to be a Warrior of Darkness?”

She turned and smiled at him. A whirl of color in her eyes. “Mhm, even them.”

He felt a similar grin growing on his mouth. A turn of his head to peer at the layers of fabric in his lap. “You could never disappointment me.” He whispered, forgetting himself for a single moment. But it was enough. Enough to make her ears twitch and a break of air released from her mouth.

She suddenly leaned forward, peering into the depths and shadows that barred his face from her. His eyes…as if she knew that’s where each and every truth would be held. The Exarch sucked in swift breath, harsh through the nose as he leaned back. His fingers tightening further on the metal under his palms. The staff at his side. The pull that was her orbit…dragging him in.

“What…are you…can I assist you with something?” he stumbled over the words, but Kalea kept her frown. The furrow between her brows. Her long fingers reached up as if to graze the edges of his hood.

“You…” she whispered in that small space just between them. “Wh… _Who are you?_ And why do I have this feeling, rolling in the back of my mind…that we’ve met before?”

He swallowed. Crystal and flesh bobbing with the movement. Brushes of her nails dusted along the interwoven pieces of his attire and there was a long moment where she thought he would allow her this. But, his crystalized fingers wrapped around her wrist. Never forceful…but she would go no further.

“Please…” and he sounded strained and agonized. As if, the words were a struggle to even speak aloud. “Leave it alone.”

Aether. A swirl of it sparked on her tongue and she licked her lips. She couldn’t see his eyes dart to the movement, but she heard another tight inhale clamor through his chest. Levin and whispers that shocked her skin.

“You can’t hide this from me forever,” she whispered and it was a promise. A vow both resolved and threatening. “I _know you._ But how, I don’t…why do you hide it from me?”

His grip tightened, but the voice that caught in her ears was heartbroken. “Tis…its better this way. You must trust me. I do this…for both our sakes.”

“You do this for your own.”

She snapped at him and pushed away. Standing swiftly, even as he opened his mouth the call after her. Fingers outstretched and holding onto the air between them. Her eyes caught over her shoulder; forces and swirls of dark purple that he could taste in his mouth. Her anger was building, and with one simple curt nod she walked away. Her heels clicking on the floor. Echoing in his ears.

The Exarch’s hand dropped. And for the first time since her arrival, he felt the full weight of his age. Of the century he’d planned in hopes that he could be strong enough to hold the truth from her. To not chase after her and lay his soul bear. Open and honest and completely _hers._

But, he remained rooted to the chair. Sagging with the weight of his carefully laid plans. The stars allowing him, cold and quiet comfort. The absence of her presence cut from his side.

He hated it.

And would do nothing to change it.

* * *

He came to her dreams again. His smile, his aether…his very presence humming and making her alive. Bleeding out into each corner of what she was. He already was catching her on fire. Sparks and kindling that light into a blaze.

But this time…

“You’re clothed.”

She frowned. A pout that made him chuckle. The sound pulsing through her. His fingers were reaching out to touch along the curve of her jaw. The shape of her neck.

“As are you my love, if you would notice.”

It was true, much to her annoyance. A simple shirt and smalls barred her from the feeling of his skin. A hempen set much like the one she wore to sleep, kept her from the _ache_ that was G’raha’s. If imagination was going to allow this bliss to enter her mind the brief moments slumber took tight hold, then the least it could do was lay bare his beautiful flesh.

“I want it off,” she huffed and blushed deeply when he laughed. His garnet eyes were glittering, alive and lighted with such brilliance that it almost hurt to look upon him. Kalea’s heart snapped and mended each time she was allowed this. This…illusion of the very desperate wishes of self. To see him again.

If only in her dreams. As anguished as she was to see him, any semblance of him…she would take it.

“What’s wrong Kalea?” he wondered, his eyes searching the falling lines of her face. She shook her head quickly, pressing a palm to his cheek. Her heart breaking as he leaned into it. She could feel his purr rumbling through to seep in her skin.

“Tis nothing,” she whispered, swallowing her grief. “I just…”

She wouldn’t waste time wallowing in such things when this was all she had. Everything she ever needed narrowed down to the perfect soul capturing her with a soft smile.

Instead, she crawled forward to sit upon his lap. Straddling his waist and turning his sounds out in a strangled groan.

“I forget how impatient you can be,” he chuckled before she leaned forward to capture his mouth. Breaking the seam of his lips with her tongue. Delving, hot and wild to pull a growl from the back of his throat.

“G’raha,” she whispered. “Is it my fault that I have been so utterly charmed by you? Since that moment you fumbled out your greetings and smiled at me with that boyish smirk of yours…”

G’raha’s hands moving to dig into skin at her hips. Fingers hard enough to bruise. Kalea’s tail curled around his leg, her very body purring in response. She missed him. No matter that this was a mere dream. No matter that he would be gone again when her eyes awoke in a strangled sob.

She _missed him._

“Kalea,” he groaned and nipped at her lips. Aching and pushing at her core with his own, potent arousal. “I think you are forgetting… _ah_ …who charmed who. If you had been a primal, my love I would have been tempered…I can’t believe you’re here –“

But her fingers pressed to his lips. Stopping his beginning ramblings. They dragged down his jaw. The brush of his bangs, before they found trembling rest at the buttons of his maddening shirt.

“If you are to be a dream,” she whispered and pressed a yearning kiss to his mouth. Wanting. Hungry. Filled with all that she couldn’t even bring words to. It would never come close to what he’d become. What he meant _to her_. “G’raha…you must sit here and let me confess my sins.”

His hissed when her nails trailed down the planes of his stomach. Struggling for any sort of sensible words as they dipped lower. Deeper. Toying with the band of his smalls. Her hips continuously rolling into his. Hot. _Everything was so hot._

“What…what sins…” he groaned. Desperate and with scattered breaths when those nimble digits of hers finally dusted along the searing skin of his member. Something short circuited within the planes of his brain. Shocks and spasms and oh..oh… _oh…_

“What could you… _mmm_ …possibly have to atone… _ah!_ For?” his words panted out in smoldering breaths.

“So many things,” Kalea whimpered as her own clothed, throbbing center rocked and rolled over his now released self. She had never seen one before…this precious thing now pulsing and weeping in her hand. Rolls and desire and unbridled _need_ bloomed within her body to have it. To have _him._

Her hand trailed over the smooth skin. Like velvet. Like…perfection. She gripped and pulled and _moved._ New to all such actions and primal utterance of overwhelming passion, Kalea let the tug of instinct and _want_ guide her. Drunk and heady with the sounds G’raha was making. How he felt under her fingers.

“That night when I stole you away,” she began, pushing her tender breasts against his chest. His hands dove under her thin shirt. Curling into her back. Tangling in hair. His forehead resting on her bare shoulder. “When we escaped from Mor Dhona and I held your hand under the stars. I wanted…twelve above _Raha_ …I wanted to kiss you.”

She pumped him as her words washed over his body. A rumbling. Purrs and moans that resonated down the bond that existed between them. Snapping ever firmly into place. Perfect pieces making whole. Red and violets. A storm that swirled through his aether. Lilacs and citrus and everything she was. Stars shattering about his eyes.

His name. His _true name_ uttered on her mouth. He wondered if she would break him apart from that simple word. Simple and yet…From the curve and sound of it held within her lips. The word he hadn’t heard in centuries.

Mindless with the passion she gave him, G’raha latched his mouth over her pulse. To that same space he had marked before. Deeper. Deeper he branded her.

She began sobbing. Her core so unbearable and wanting. Rocking and pushing against the clutch of him in her hands.

“And l-later…” she moaned, tilting her head so that he could have better access. The area under his mouth suddenly sensitive and rippling through her like a shock. Blinded and drowning in him. As if her soul was right at the place where his mouth broke into her skin. “Just before we opened the…ah… _Ah!_ Tower…and you…you sang that night. At the campfire…”

She whispered and screamed his name in tandem. Her long fingers thumbing and pounding his length. Moving from end to head. He sucked harder on that space that was only _his_ and she wondered if she might come from such ministration alone. She was rushing. Rushing headlong into that oblivion…sweet and utter bliss that promised such a meld to G’raha Tia that was both thrilling and terrifying.

To merge her colors with his own.

“At the campfire…you were our…bard and when you sang…”

“I was singing…for…you _…_ ” G’raha whispered. His charm breaking through as his own release barreled headlong at her very hands. He struggled to focus; to see anything besides the flash of white-hot pleasure that flooded his vision. He’d never felt like this. Dream or no…imagination or no…Nothing would ever compare to the headiness of having her wrapped around him. Marked. Sealed. Branded. His.

_Only and forever his._

“Kalea…” he lifted his chin. Panting hot breaths between them. Mingled lips and skin and aether. Her head lolled to meet his. His calloused hands moving to run thumbs over the swollen shape of her breasts. Nothing could match the heavy weight and utter bliss of them under his palms. Nor, the strangled whine that broke from his Hero’s mouth. “My love…I would do… _anything for you.”_

She smiled. The one that lit her like a star. Glimmering and shining like the sun. Ravished and breathless. Flushed and _perfect._

“Raha. That night…that night I wanted to tell you that I _loved you.”_

The Exarch awoke. Bolting upright in his bed, a sudden and devastating thing that bore like a sharp knife straight through his heart. Cruel. Broken. Swallowed by unfilled pleasure and overwhelming grief.

His bed was cold. His loneliness gaping and pressing onto his shoulders like the void. He could smell her. He could feel her. The taste of her in his mouth. All of it slipped through his fingers. Leaving him lost. Alone. Desperate for the one he cherished and wanted, more than anyone else.

His head dropped to his hands. Flesh and crystal catching his hot tears. Palms muffling the sound, as he sobbed her name.

And below the Tower’s shadow. Locked behind steel and wood, tangled in her sweat soaked sheets, Kalea cried. Back bent and heaving breaths. Her arousal tangible and sweltering. Her sorrow for the loss of him _again_ felt within the core of her being. Aether and vibrant storm at her breast, chaotic and turbulent. Fingers pressed to the throbbing mark at her skin. Pulse wild under her digits.

The mark was still there. Carved even deeper to forever change her.

She loved him. _She loved him._

Kalea screamed into her pillows. Curled inward and breaking.

She loved him…and wished she would have told him when she’d had the chance. Before, he was lost to her forever. That…was her greatest sin.

* * *

The second time Kalea awoke she felt her legs made of lead. Heavy and with eyes rimmed red. She pressed palms against her lashes, feeling the damp tangle soaking into her skin as she struggled to sit up. Curling limp limbs into herself as her skin met the cold night air. Everything about her was raw. Aching and ripped open.

G’raha Tia’s ardent and passionate voice still ringing in her ears.

“This man you keep crying out to…do you love him?”

Kalea turned her eyes, all surges and waves of vivid color at the man at her window. His down casted eyes lost in thought though he winced when he caught her gaze. Pinpricks hard as gems in the early morning light.

“Is this going to be a habit of yours?” she snapped, though the bite was hollow. Her sadness bleeding through the edges.

“I followed you to Eulmore, and then on to Amh Araeng. And I was there when you slew the Lightwarden. But now…I only heard you crying,” Ardbert replied gently, turning to look at her at last. “And calling out his name.”

Kalea was silent then, standing on trembling legs to wrap a robe about herself. An armor in as much itself as her usual plate and leather. She didn’t wish to change yet…for if she tried, she could still smell him on her skin.

“He must mean,” Ardbert added as she came up beside him. Folded arms as they looked at the ever dawning sky. Voice strangely wistful. “A great deal to you.”

She gave a great, shuddering sigh. The edge of it cascaded in a wavering sob. A quiet sound that made her again at her lashes. The mark on her skin hummed, strange flutterings down strange aether. A line that connect that place on her neck…to someone with garnet eyes that made her _whole._

“Yes,” she said at last and he blinked that she even deigned him an answer. But the smile on her mouth was filled with the truth. “I love him.”

He nodded, but did not press the issue further. Grateful that she had allowed him this small measure. This brief look into the window of her persona.

“So,” Ardbert began, a laugh under his breath. “It’s your lot’s turn to be the Warriors of Darkness, is it? It’s funny how things work out.”

He shrugged, turning back to take in the sights just beyond the border of pane and metal. “Those white-haired twins who were with you…I remember them from our battle in the Source. Are they your friends, then? Through thick and thin?”

“They are family that I don’t deserve,” Kalea replied and tilted her head. Soft eyes and one corner tugging at her mouth.

“Then I suggest you keep them close. It’s when you charge ahead trying to save someone else that you end up losing those you care about. Not that you need telling. But I wonder…what will it cost you this time? I don’t remember when it was that I learned regret wasn’t worth the bother. You get numb to all over the years. The lost comrades, the broken promises, the abandoned principles – just more nagging burdens to ignore.”

“You sound weary Ardbert,” she said when he turned away. Eyes closed and running hands about his face. His outline blurring slightly. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry for the pain I gave you in the Source.”

“Don’t apologize,” he cut in quickly. Voice earnest but soft. “I merely appreciate the opportunity to speak to someone. To relieve even the idea of this burden. It gets…heavy.”

“It does. But, I have those about me that insist I not carry it alone. No matter my protests to the contrary.”

He was fading. Soft steps towards the door even as the sun was breaking over crystal. The rolling hills of Lakeland bathing in the aurora of morning. Without the flood of false light to overwhelm it – the Crystarium would see their first sunrise in a century.

The first hope of a new day without muted overlays of umbral nature. Softness and gentleness. A wrapped comfort of spring still clinging to a winter’s chill.

“Good,” he said at last in an echoed voice. “Make sure it stays that way. And this love of yours…” she sucked in a tight breath through her nose, but he continued in that same quiet manner. Giving her a smile over the shoulder before winking from sight. “I hope you get to see him again one day.”

She returned the gesture with a soft one of her own. But it didn’t reach her eyes. How could she possibly respond when her heart was cutting within her chest like glass? The man she dreamed of was only that now.

Dreams.

* * *

The Exarch rolled his shoulders, feeling the never ending ache pulse about his chest. The crystal mirror before him showcasing the scene outside the city. The rumble of machine and worried murmurs as the airship hovered like a vulture. The colors of Eulmore caught in the light of the unburden morning. Garish and a stain against the surface of the glistening Tower.

“My Lord,” Lyna’s voice echoed through the room, calling his attention with rapt quickness. “The Hero is here. And the Emissary is heading this way.”

A thick swallow and the Exarch nodded. Trying desperately to ignore the throb that ignited in his lower stomach. Flashes and remembering’s of his dream last night. The weight of her breasts in his palms. His tongue sweeping her mouth. Her fingers pulling and moving along his member.

Focus. He had to focus on anything else. The last thing he needed was to have an obvious tenting right here in the middle of his study as they tried to discuss serious matters. No matter how sorely he was tempted.

_“Raha. That night…that night I wanted to tell you that I loved you.”_

Apparently, his mind was now feeding his own shameless and desperate wishes. For in his dreams, she professed the things he longed to hear. The words from her lips and sparks of resounding brilliance in her eyes. The beat of her heart in tandem with his own.

She loved him. She loved him. _She…_

He shook his head. Just a dream. Only a dream.

“Allow her in,” he said at last and Lyna saluted. Opening the doors and relieving her space to Kalea. A quick nod passed between them. The Viis had taken a begrudging liking to the young woman, reserved as Lyna was, the small smile was telling enough.

“You are come at a good time,” he said turning from the still projecting mirror. Soaking her in with dry swallows. Trying for familiarity despite everything that had passed between them. “As you have heard, we have something of a quandary on our hands.”

“The master of the suites told me as much,” she replied and rubbed a forearm. Her lashes cast long shadows on her cheeks as she looked to the floor. A scrape of her boot across the crystal. “But I had originally come to…to apologize. I was angry with you last night and I am…sorry for the way I acted. You did not deserve it.”

His tugging grin was like a bloom on his jaw. A lovely thing, bright and simple. “You do not owe me anything Kalea.”

“I meant what I said,” she replied and her eyes snapped to his with a quick force before it faded away like rain. A thunderstorm muted to easy showers. “I will find out Exarch. But my ire, was misplaced. I am not…the most patient sort. I hope you can forgive me for it.”

“As I said, there is nothing to forgive,” he said and held up a quick hand before she could continue. “But, if such a thing will put you at ease then you shall have it. Freely.”

“Thank you,” she tilted her head and let the curve of her mouth pull upwards. But, it was short lived. For the Exarch turned back to look at the portal – drawing her eyes to it. A swift breath caught at her throat.

“Laxan Loft,” he explained gravely. “Here in Lakeland. Eulmore has sent one of its airships. They have questions for us concerning the death of the Lightwarden. Their emissary makes his way here even as we speak.”

“The sky does tend to give that creature’s death way,” Kalea added. A furrow between her brows.

“Indeed. Twas inevitable that they would come knocking. The only question was how soon.”

Another knock. A harsh sound that vibrated up Kalea’s spine. Something foreign and fallacious seeped in from the other side of the door. Like a poison that curled about the ankles and threatened to seep into the skin. The aether nauseating and sharp.

“My Lord Exarch, I am come with the Eulmore emissary. May I show him in?” Lyna’s cascade ground through the wood. Her disgust at their new arrival poorly concealed.

“A moment, Captain. If you would.”

He waved his staff, the image wavering through a ripple before disappearing like a stone dropped in water. “Kalea, I do not wish to show our hand prematurely. Forgive me this liberty.”

His hooded head moved, and though confusion fell over her brow she nodded all the same. His outstretched hand made of flesh and blood gesturing to the small space that was behind him. He swallowed as she moved forward, a swish white robes and metal as silent as the ears pressed to her hair. He could smell her. Lilacs and citrus. The crack of aether that was only hers.

He would know it if he was blind.

But when she stilled behind him the bob of his head was slow, but solid. “Vanish.”

The spell was whispered, and the light from his staff was just as gentle. Settling over her shoulders and running down her limbs like an egg cracked against her neck. The taste of his ancient magic flooding her tongue. But, it made quick work of her corporal form. Her visage disappearing into nothingness. A wisp made seen by only his eyes. His own secret to hide and protect.

He put a finger to his lips, an almost teasing turn for their secret. A necessary one all the same.

Something jolted and pooled _warm_ in her stomach to see it.

“Enter,” he commanded and turned. Staff smacking against the floor. Feeling the weight of her eyes on his back. Her presence almost tangible against his robes.

The man that emerged with Lyna bled out with his taint. Gagging and choking at the throat. Cruelty and vile kept in slanted eyes like a snake. A long mustache trailed down his chest, bangles and earrings of gold that looked nothing like the inlay of the Crystal Tower. Instead they glowed green and tarnished under the light of the arcane. Gilded like the rotting city he hailed from.

He could feel Kalea suck in a tight breath behind him, like a cat coiling up in a corner. The Exarch let a breath break through his mouth before feeling his chest swell. He pulled his shoulders back further. A shield for his beloved…no matter what roll he was wearing.

“Well, well…The commander of the Eulmoran Army himself. To what do I owe the honor, General Ran’jit?

“The Lightwarden is dead Exarch,” the man barked. Filling the space with a voice that slithered and snapped. Commanding and powerful as the plague. “Were your people responsible?”

“You are clearly in some haste, my lord,” the Exarch responded smoothly. “But before I address your question, you must allow me one of my own. What is Eulmore’s interest in this?”

“His Benevolence Lord Vauthry is gravely concerned that the actions of an ignorant few may jeopardize relations between man and sin eater,” Ran’jit seethed, voice dripping like oil. “Should it transpire that the Crystarium is guilty of abetting the villains responsible for this outrage...My lord has decreed that it suffer the same…retribution.”

Lyna seethed at such a statement. Her lip pulling back from her teeth.

“I see,” the Exarch bit out. “Since you have been so candid, I too shall speak my mind. Regardless of who is responsible, the Crystarium _rejoices_ in the Lightwarden’s death, and welcomes the return of the night sky. If Eulmore considers this tantamount to aiding those you term “villains,” then by all means carry out your retribution. Know, however, that even should every innocent soul in the Crystarium perish, nothing can stop that which has been set in motion.”

The man sighed. A condescending noise that sounded like a hiss. “Folly. The death of one or a thousand thousand sin eaters changes nothing. The world is dead, and writhe as we might, like maggots in its rotting corpse, it will _not_ be reborn. Only by my master’s grace may we live out our days in peace. But, I waste my breath. You have made your stance clear. I shall relay your words to Lord Vauthry. However, you would do well to counsel any here who have done more than merely ‘rejoice’ in recent events to throw themselves upon Eulmore’s mercy. Promptly.”

He waved a hand before returning it to its place behind his back. The Exarch watched it with swift gaze as if it would strike.

“One last matter,” Ran’jit said and something cruel grew at his mouth. “The one that was my true compellance upon arriving here. My Lord has come to the attention that you have in your keeping a young woman. A Mystrel with brunette hair and violet eyes, the waging tongues speak oft of her beauty. Lord Vauthry would purchase her from you. It would go a long way towards expunging your sin in this Lightwarden manner.”

The Exarch saw red. The rush of blood pressing against his ears. Fingers tightening on the hilt of his staff.

“ _What?_ ” he growled. A legitimate _snarl_ bubbling out through his throat.

Ran’jit seemed unmoved. “The Crystarium will be well compensated. My Lord’s salvation offered with an open hand. Quite the trade Exarch. For a woman to simply rut against. More than enough that you might get another _fuck_ from whoever you wish. Lord Vauthry is far too generous for his own good. Do you know of whom I speak?”

The Exarch felt he might explode. The flood of aether and magics and anger swelled against his limbs. Pressed against crystal and skin. He couldn’t think. Could not formulate proper cohesive thoughts over the pounding against his ribs. His vision blurring. The very Tower _shaking._

But, there were fingers suddenly at his back. The curls of a hand fisting into his robes. Unseen presses of his most cherished and precious thing, giving him strength. Kalea’s aether bled into his own.

“A woman who shares my bed?” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Even if such a person would exist, your crass and _disgusting_ insults aside…No. I cannot say I know of anyone fitting such a description.”

“What a pity,” Ran’jit hummed and turned away. The Exarch shoved down every single instinct to take the man’s wretched head from his shoulders. “Should you choose to _reveal_ your _whore,_ I bid you hand them over at once. My master is most eager to see them again.”

“ **Get. Out**.” The Exarch snarled. Furious and with a resounding voice that echoed throughout the chamber. It bordered no arguments. No negotiations. And not a single step would be given in consequence. Lyna blinked, her eyebrows raising to disappear under her bangs. Never having heard such a tone from him before.

Ran’jit didn’t answer, but the rush and rumbling about the Tower snapped at his heels. As if he was awakening a great and powerful beast. Eyes that blazed and promised a tearing of flesh.

A gaze of blood red. Bolstered and given strength by the elegant hand on his back. The one secret and held only for him. He knew it wasn’t the same. The feelings behind the courage she gave him now were nothing like the press against his skin she gave him in his dreams. But, that didn’t matter.

He would protect her.

He would always protect her.

Ran’jit sneered, but turned on his heel. Disappearing through the door and taking the aura of sickening rot with him. The air clearing like vapor caught in the morning sun.

But it did nothing for the Exarch’s roll of possessiveness. That same, welling furious red hot _thing_ clattering around his body. Anger and fury swirling about the film of his eyes. It took everything he had to smack his cane upon the floor, to dissolve the spell hiding Kalea under the shade of his shoulder. To feel her hand slip from its grip upon his back.

“I felt as if I couldn’t breathe,” she pressed a hand to her throat as he turned to look at her. Swallowing the very primal urge to take her into his arms. To latch his mouth over the pulse under her skin – the same that he lavished over in his dreams and make it known to anyone with eyes or ears that she was _his._ To take her right here on these very stairs. “His aether was chocking. Like venom. What sort of creature is he?”

“The general is not a man to be trifled with,” the Exarch replied. Determined to regulate himself through slow breaths through the nose. “He is a warrior of fearsome repute who led Eulmore’s army since before Vauthry’s time, when the nation still spearheaded the fight against the sin eaters. One does not command the world’s mightiest army, and for so long, without possessing exceptional abilities. Kalea, I am…I am desperately sorry for the words he said against you. For the things he said. I cannot begin to describe – “

“Tis not your fault,” she tilted her head, a single shoulder pulling. “But, I never want to think on that man’s repugnant offer. Nor have them sully _your name_ in the process.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued unabated. “But, if Eulmore chose to send such an individual, we must assume this talk of retribution is more than an idle threat. I am…grateful for your support Exarch, but I cannot in good conscience put the people’s here in harm’s way.”

His affection for her grew in flourish through skin and crystal. Taking some of the heat from his blood. “Tis noble of you to say, Kalea but my people have been in harm’s way since long before you arrived. Eulmore has ever yearned to rule over what remains of the world. I imagine they would find any means upon which to invade. The people of the Crystarium know this only too well, which is why, when the time comes, I am certain they will fight to the last man.”

Her gaze dropped as his words washed over her. Feeling the courage of every soul here strengthening and fortifying the steps she took. One right after the other.

“If truth be told, I would not have been surprised had Ran’jit declared war here and now…”

Lyna shook her head, drawing closer to the pair though her eyes stayed a bit longer on the Exarch. “He may have reason to delay,” she began. “According to reports, the Eulmoran forces at Laxan Loft were observed chasing after a former prisoner. A young woman believed to be none other than the Oracle of Light – Minfilia. As soon as the airship was seen in our skies, your companion fled with his young charge towards the lands of Il Mheg. It may be that General Ran’jit wishes to convey her to Eulmore before commencing hostilities. Having mentored generations of Minfilias, it would not surprise me if he had made her capture his chief concern.”

“I still know so little about her,” Kalea said, frowning as she glanced from Lyna towards the Exarch. “It seems a complicated history to put it mildly.”

“How remiss of me,” he shook his head then. “I had intended to speak to you further on Minfilia. There is, however much to say, and precious time in which to say it…particularly if Thancred has fled with her.”

“Il Mheg,” she hummed in thought, fingers to her chin while her eyes flickered. “The land of the Fae, correct? Where Feo Ul hails from. Would the Eulmoran army not follow them?”

“They will try,” The Exarch answered, letting a small laugh escape his mouth at the mention of her eccentric fae companion. A twinkling pixie all of gold and flaming red hair. “But they will not get far. The Fae have powerful magics all their own, and they are not to be trifled with. I imagine tis why your companion decided in that direction, the General will not so easy follow. Urianger has taken up a small residency there, for he has ample patience for the pixies behavior and their love of play, to discover the location of that region’s Lightwarden.”

“Then I will follow after them,” Kalea said, brushing her hair away from the curve of her neck. The Exarch’s eyes, forever concealed by his hood, followed the movement. Heart turning a strange juxtaposition of pride and disappointment. That she was determined to set about the salvation of this star, and yet that she would be gone again so quickly. He nodded all the same.

“Alphinaud and Alisaie had been made aware of the General’s arrival this morning as well,” Lyna added. “I imagine they will stand ready to accompany you should you need. Do not let my Lord’s friendship with Feo Ul sway you, the pixies are a strange and dangerous folk. That he allowed you such a pact with one at all, still boggles the mind.”

She shook her head, but the exasperation in her voice was mixed with fondness. So much so that Kalea couldn’t help the half smile, even while the Master of this great and massive place let loose a low breath of almost bashful measure.

“I would not have done so if I didn’t trust Feo Ul,” he replied. “And I would never do anything to place Kalea in harm’s way!”

“Yes. This I am aware of.”

There it was again. Watching the line of his jaw move as he spoke to Lyna. The shape of his plush lips that seemed so very intimate within her mind. The tightening of his fingers to the metal on his staff. Even the crystal that decorated his body, turning flesh into glittering facets of mirrored color couldn’t hide the shape of a man who seemed…so familiar.

Kalea growled to herself as she looked away. It made her head hurt. Made things fizzle and swell at her chest. Feelings and tugs and _yanks_ towards him. A restlessness that was only sated when she was in his presence, and yet…aches that tripled over to barrel over her skin.

Frustration and irritation at being kept in the dark growing further. She wanted to protect Thancred, to help this new timid and shy Minfilia…but talking with Urianger about such a woven spell crafted around the Exarch, was tearing her open.

“I will take your counsel to heart, thank you Captain,” she said breaking through their exchange. “But, I will still leave without delay. Hopefully we shall discover the Lightwarden’s location in the process and bring night to a fae world. Tis why you summoned me here, is it not?”

She raised a brow at the Exarch. A small tease curving over her lips and flashing in her smile. The small release of surprise moved his jaw, but he chuckled all the same.

“Tis so.”

“Come my lady,” Lyna saluted. “I will show you to the Amaro Launch and call for the Twins immediately to meet us there with haste.”

Kalea nodded and made to move out of the Ocular. Following in the Captain’s long steps when suddenly…

“Please be careful,” the Exarch said. His fingers grasping a little tighter about her hand. The one he had reached out so desperately for. Now it was her turn to have the seam of her lips parted in surprise. Hair falling about skin and eyes as she looked at him. “The General is not a man to be trifled with. I have no doubt he will… _take you_ if given the opportunity.”

Protective and possessive. A resounding shock of aether that crawled up the Exarch’s spine and whispered it out through his chest. Mine. Mine. _Mine._

A swallow as he tried to clear his vision, struggling to reach tones of a supporting and cautious nature and not the ones of a _mate driven to protect what was his._

“I have no doubt that you are more than capable of defending yourself,” he smiled to himself, looking down at the meeting of their hands. His own larger fingers about hers. It reminded him of better days. When she would take his hands into her own and drag him about Mor Dhona. When she stole him away like a thief in the night. And when she fisted them in his leathers the day he’d kissed her goodbye.

“But, all the same. You must be cautious. We cannot afford to lose you.”

“With the blessing of Light, who else would be able to defeat the Lightwardens?” she replied with a breathy laugh, but when he made to protest she squeezed his hand instead. A tilt of her head. The slip of long hair across her back, and the whirling color of her vivid eyes.

“Thank you Exarch. We will return soon. I shall send word along with Feo Ul. Try not to worry so much, tis bad for your health. ”

He nodded and released her. His hand dropping to his side. Fingers curling into the metal of his staff as he watched her turn on her heel. The sound an echo that pounded in his ears long after she’d gone. A feeling of hollowness and loss. Carved out pieces of his chest that ached, pounded and pulsed in his ears. But he remained as solid as the crystal around him. _In him._

Resolved and unmoving. Firm and fixture in his unwavering faith…in _her._

While unseen aether continuously braided and promised between them. All within the shade of the Crystal Tower. A silent sentential of hopes kept forever safe, no matter how long may pass between them.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I lied when I said it would be a few days till I posted the next chapter...I couldn't help myself. Cat boy love has taken over my brain. Please don't send help, I don't want it.
> 
> From the bottom of my heart, thank you - thank you - THANK YOU for your kindness on this fic. All your comments are kept so tight in my sobbing little heart, they mean the very world to me. 
> 
> Mahalo


	6. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”
> 
> \- The Tempest, Act I: Scene II

_“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”_

  * **_William Shakespeare “The Tempest”_**



The Exarch waited. With a rushing heartbeat and a present furrow between unseen brows. He paced and worried and planned. His feet an ever echoing cascade on the floor of the Ocular as his vigil increased. The portal that allowed him some manner of viewing to the world of Norvrandt followed her and the others in scattered visages of Il Mheg. Clashes of magic and shatters of swords. He heard her bark orders to the Twins, to even Thancred with resolute confidence of a young woman perfectly knowledgeable in her abilities. He let her laugh wash over him like warm water; the sound of music cascaded in the chamber, when the pixies danced around her. Wide eyes and happy little mouths open in cheerful awe. They orbited her like tiny, glittering planets caught in her wake.

It was enough that he could at least breathe. At least find some measure of brief sleep at night. Though…he didn’t dream of her again. In truth, he barely slept. His heart caught forever been the grief of not feeling her in those small hours where oblivion wrapped him about – and the grief of having it only his imagination.

He didn’t know which fate he was to die upon.

The Lightwarden had been the Fae’s own King. A brave creature who’d lost their soul upon trying to save their subjects from the wrath of monsters. Locked away in the castle made of marble and ivory. The faces carved into stained glass their only companions.

Titania, the King of this kaleidoscope world, smiled when Kalea finally put them to rest. Free of their utter loneliness. From the burden of pulsing umbral energies that wracked and destroyed their soul. The Exarch watched as the flood of light that had made the Fae King into the very destruction of their realm, passed with peaceful ease into Kalea’s breast. Her mother’s blessing keeping her safe. So he told her, afterall. Such as it would be for now…

His fingers tightened on his staff. A swallow at his throat. Resolve increasing tenfold to what must be done. What he would need to do in the future.

Anything for her. _Always._

When Kalea passed the Crown of the Fae to their eccentric little friend Feo Ul, now bearing the weight and might of Titania – The Exarch finally allowed himself to eat at the plate Lyna kept bringing him.

When the Eulmoran army fled that brightly colored world in panic and tail tucked between their legs it was a well-deserved sigh of peace. General Ran’jit was not defeated so easily, simply retreating back to Eulmore in the grotesque shadow of their furious Lord – but his friends were safe. _She was safe._ The Exarch’s relief was almost palpable.

“That woman,” Lyna whispered. At first voice so soft he thought he’d mistake it. “Kalea. You care for her, do you not?”

He coughed, a swift sound as he glanced to the Viis seated at his side. Her own eyes downcast and picking at her lunch. She’d taken to eating with him these past few days; determined to try and see him intake some nourishment. But, it had proved for naught until this afternoon.

Lyna was far too intelligent not to connect the dots, especially when they lay so easily one after the other.

“She has helped us defeat two Lightwardens now,” he began. Striving for neutrality. “Not to mention her courage and kindness is something to be admired. She is my friend, as are her companions. I care for all of them…”

“That is _not_ what I meant,” she fixed him with a look. Watching as the man who raised her, who she loved as deeply as her own flesh and blood, fidgeted in his chair. It took a great deal not to laugh at him.

“I do not know what you mean then,” he said spearing a small vegetable with his fork. She snorted.

“Yes you do,” she pointed at him, watching as his mouth split open in a surprise. “And if she can give you happiness, then why do you hesitate? I have seen the way she looks at _you!_ Do you not notice?! No one else deserves it _more than you,_ my lord! I just do not understand why you don’t…”

“Lyna,” he broke in and his voice was gentle, but firm. The same one he would use with her when she was little. When he would catch her climbing too high in the Crystarium. Or sprinting off with his staff wavering in her small, slender grip. She loved it…and hated that tone all at the same time. The visage of his mouth setting into the saddest of smiles. “Please. Just…just leave it alone.”

The Viis dropped into silence. Not speaking again even as they both finished their meal. Half-heartedly satisfied she took away his plate, leaving him to bury into work and papers and mutterings of the arcane. But, Lyna would not leave it alone.

And when she strode out of his study, she was resolved. Nearly as much as he was.

* * *

“Thank the Twelve,” Kalea breathed out, pressing a hand to her chest. Her shoulders almost dropping in relief. “The Crystarium seems well and safe.”

They strode through the open air towards the winding steps of the Crystal Tower. Weary, worn but aching for its iridescent air. Promising deliverance. Here was their home…a far-a-way remedy blessed to them on the First.

“Yes,” Alisaie huffed waving a hand. “Eulmore was plainly more concerned with finding us. How flattering.”

“Thou should taketh it as the compliment they meant it,” Urianger glanced at the shorter Elezen. His teasing smile small and ever slight, but there all the same. It grew a bit further when she snorted.

Kalea opened her mouth to reply, brushing fingers along the curve of her jaw to move her hair back but it never came. The words caught and frozen in her throat. Stuck and still as if a hand had wrapped about them. Freezing and curling aether of cold ink trilling down the spine. Flickers of her ears. Kalea felt as if she’d been dropped into a void of icy water. Collapsing and pressed hard against her lungs. The sound of footsteps behind her banging around like screams along her skin and she turned to look behind her before the others.

Watching with snaps about her eyes. Furious lines along her lashes. Mouth pressed together at the man who drew nearer towards their party. Slow, easy and nonchalant movements. Layers of rich fabrics and gold clasps. A smirk on a well cut jaw. A man ancient. _Dark._ And _dangerous._

“…You certainly took your time. I had half resolved to complete the task myself.”

He caught the Scions attention then. Thancred, pulling Minfilia a little further behind him as they watched. No one could mistake what this stranger brought with him.

An essence that was _otherworldly._

“And…you are?” Alisaie queried with a slight snappy tone, but Urianger held out a hand. For he could feel it. Just as Kalea when her lip pulled over her teeth.

“Were one to study the annals of Garlean history, one would find yonder visage on many a page. Though by rights its youth should long since have faded.” The Elezen bore a hole through this man’s visage, though he seemed not the least concerned. In fact, a chuckle popped out instead.

“Well, well, we have a historian in our midst. That spares me a lengthy explanation. I am Solus zos Galvus, founding father of the Garlean Empire. And, under various guises, the architect of myriad other imperially inclined nations. As for my true identity…”

He passed a gloved hand over his face. A courtly and perfected bow, all elegance and polish and sleek lines. Delighting in their shock as the red mask appeared at his features.

“I am Emet-Selch. Ascian.”

Their anger and ferocity was instant. Pulled muscles and tightened grips on weapons. Even if the now unveiled villain did not move save for a growing smirk.

“Gaius spoke of you,” Alisaie said, breathless. “A native of the Source…”

“Equal in rank to Lahabrea!” Thancred spat, his hand teasing the edge of his gunblade. “And you came all this way just to introduce yourself to us?”

The mask disappeared and Emet-Selch waved his arms upwards towards the world above them. To the dark void filled with spatters of stars and swirls of celestial cloud. “Behold the sky, restored to its former glory! Have you ever seen a more affecting spectacle? Ohhh, it is truly, deeply…”

And then the smile fell and his voice turned harsh like gravel. “…Infuriating. Do you have any idea how much you have delayed the Rejoining? Following the Flood, the First had been listing ever further towards the Light – towards stasis. The end was in sight! Yet enter this _Crystal Exarch_ and his indomitable spirit. _He_ would haul the world back from the brink! And adding his lumpen weight to the power of growth, he duly tipped the scales. If only by a fraction. Yet a fraction was enough to spoil the perfect imbalance needed to bring about a Rejoining! Had mankind continued to live in idleness under Vauthry’s rule, all the conditions would have been met…”

His hissed and spat at like them like a furious jungle cat. His golden eyes flashing in the evening air. He threw another finger at their company. It’s laser focus landing on Kalea. His gaze boring into hers. “And _you_ had to come and ruin it all! Thanks to your meddling, Light’s supremacy is in doubt, and our painstakingly laid plans are in tatters!”

“If you are hoping for some remorse on my part,” she snapped her jaw at him. Showing her teeth, even as her hands remained at their place on her hips. A storm made manifest. “I am afraid you will be severely disappointed.”

“Though, maybe we should begin by thanking you for confirming Urianger’s theories on the inner workings of the Calamity,” Thancred added in his own growl, folding his arms over his broad chest. Still tucking Minfilia safely to his side. “He will be most pleased. As for what happens next, might I suggest you admit defeat and walk away?”

Emet-Selch’s sneering frown turned into something with curls of a smirk. Darting from Kalea’s face to the others. As if the murderous glint in Thancred’s eye was something humorous. He continued however, unabashed and undeterred. Save now, in a vein that caught them again by surprise. Alphinaud’s mouth dropping open at such an offer extended across the table. His sister gripping his hand alongside him.

“Instead of siding alongside Vauthry, and simply killing you all – I have deigned another path. _Cooperation_. I will not raise a hand to hinder your hunt for the Lightwardens. If you desire it, I will even lend you knowledge and strength.”

“Is this a jest?” Kalea replied, a single brow raised in suspicion. “You expect us to believe that your motives, your actions, your very _core_ has suddenly changed?”

“A war waged without knowledge of the enemy is no war – it is mere bloodletting. Just once…might we not seek to find common ground? For good or ill, I am immortal. Provided I have the inclination, I can always begin anew. Scheme and conspire to my heart’s content. But, this time what that we might see eye to eye? I wish to understand what drives the _Hero of the Source._ To determine if our goals are truly incompatible. So come,” he spread his arms wide, voice lifting as if they spoke of the weather and not the fate of worlds. “Shed your preconceptions. See beyond the unscrupulous villains you take us for. The proud discoverers of a path of cooperation rather than opposition. You should think of it.”

He turned then, not giving them pause to answer. Fingers and wrist loose and casual in his wave. “But, I take my leave friends. Rest assured, we shall meet again. I imagine sooner than you would think.”

The void wrapped around him. As quiet and enfolding as an embrace before he faded from view. Leaving the courtyard quiet and serene as before; though the small group assembled felt the rush of foreboding ringing about the ears.

“ _Cooperation?”_ Alisaie broke the silence first. Her eyes hard and darting to the others. “He can’t be serious…can he?”

“He delivered his proposal, and we would not dismiss it outright,” Urianger shook his head. “But we would also be a fool to trust anything he sayth save with twists of lies.”

“He certainly gave us much to ponder,” Thancred fumed. “But first things first, someone will need to report this to the Exarch. I would see Minfilia safely to dinner and the pennants. Especially if there be an Asican prowling about.”

“But, I am not tired…”

“Humor me then. I would rather not relive my history with their kind,” he sighed pushing gently at the young girl’s shoulder. Kalea pressed her lips together to keep her smile from wide spreading. Doting father indeed. He wore the mantle well.

“Then, I will speak to Moren in the Cabinet of Curiosity,” Urianger added. “Perhaps he will haveth some knowledge regarding the interworking of this newly unveiled villain upon the world of the First. He spoketh of Vauthry, tis the place I will start. Verily, prayeth I will discover something.”

“Kalea, would you come with us to relay information to the Exarch?” Alisaie asked, her brother humming in thought. “I _know_ he will be relieved to see you.”

She narrowed her eyes at the small, strange grin Alisaie flashed before her but nodded all the same. At last turning away where Emet-Selch had disappeared. Pushing away the dark sense of unease and apprehension that had appeared with his arrival. As if the Echo itself gave warning. Hesitation and premonition settling against her skin.

“Of course,” Kalea replied and moved towards the tower. Her companions at her elbow and speaking in quiet whispers. The unblocked moon making their shadows long and tired. Another weight added to the push on her shoulders. Worries that came in the guise of gold rimmed eyes and well-spoken erudition. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

* * *

He was pacing again, though when the knock resounded through the Ocular he found swift feet to carry him to the door. The Tower was as much an extension of himself as the movements of an arm. The push of a leg – and when that being had set foot upon the stonework of the Crystarium’s Mean, he felt it. Shadows and pools of void that winked to no-where and everywhere. Teeth pressed together. Hackles and unseen tail raised. The Exarch threw open the door forgetting all his preconceived ideals of contentment and peaceful manners and simply gave a great sigh of relief to find her standing there. Whole and seemingly unscathed.

“My friend, you returned.”

She gave him a small smile, eyes alight for his sincere show of companionship. Something warm settling over her chest. He tilted his head, a wave of his uncurled crystalized hand in a show of gentlemanly behavior. She raised a brow and let loose a laugh even as she took his invitation. Moving further into the dais with her heels even paced.

“The Twins will be along in a moment,” she said, her half smile at all the mouth. “But they lapsed into an argument near the base of the Sycrus Tower and it was not one I wished to be involved in. Sometimes it is best to let them exhaust one another out before making my own thoughts known.”

The Exarch chuckled, dipping his hooded head before he found his place near her. Just a ways from her. Always…standing a ways.

“Tis a fair and wise assessment,” he agreed. “I think we will wait to speak of the unexpected visitor till they arrive, I would begin by thanking you for all your efforts thus far. Though, the words pale in comparison to what you have done. The gratefulness I, and the people of Norvrandt, feel. In striking down the Lightwardens of Lakeland and Il Mheg, you have accomplished more in your short time here than all of our forces managed in the last century.”

“You give me too much credit Exarch, and yourself not enough,” she said dipping her chin. Her eyes searched the shadowed spaces of his face. “I would give you a proper thanks, if you would give me a proper name to being such a sentiment with.”

He recognized it for what it was and gave a chuckled, strangled sigh. “You have not given up, I see.”

“Tis not in my nature, which, you seem to be very well aware. Though, now I would wish to know something about you instead. We talk of me too often and I fear you have some pressing advantage. Tell me, Exarch. Anything at all about you that I might at least feel a slightly even playing field.”

“About…me?” he blinked, though she did not see it. “There is little to tell Kalea…and besides what could…”

“A favorite place? Food? Scent?” she huffed and folded her arms under her breasts. It was a struggle not to open the seam of his lips at such a visage. “If you are so stalled in keeping your secrets, we can trade. I will tell you one of mine in return for one of yours.”

“A trade?” he asked and the surprise in his voice told of the raising of his brows. The parting of his mouth that she kept giving stray glances towards.

“Mhm,” she nodded and brushed her hair away. Ears flickering and tail swaying about her long, booted legs. Something soft rounded her out then, the words in her mouth her own and intensely _precious._ “My favorite scent is one I found in Mor Dhona. It is a strange mixture of parchment and sunshine, aether that is cherry colored.”

He was staring at her. Breath parted, and back taken as straight as a board. Rendered mute and wondering if that was his heart thundering in his unseen ears.

Her hand was pressing into her neck, lashes falling as she blushed. The Exarch swallowed thickly.

“I am a poor descriptor but, simple as the explanation may be I fulfilled my end of the bargain and now it’s your turn.”

She was speaking about…she meant…

“Lilacs,” he whispered and it was as reverent as a prayer. “Lilacs and oranges.”

Her laugh filled him up to overflow. “That was not so hard, was it my Lord Exarch?”

 _Wicked White…_ he couldn’t help but smile at her. His fingers itched. Desperate and yearning. Hungry to feel her underneath them. If only for a moment.

“No,” he replied gently with more emotion rounded out in his mouth than she could see. But his eyes were fixed on her. “I suppose it wasn’t.”

“This is rather sentimental. I do not suppose I would be interrupting anything?”

The Exarch’s fingers took her wrist. The long splays of his hands at her waist and then she was behind him. He ignored the flash of levin that surged through his arm upon her touch. The shocks of aether and curls, heavy about his head. A wrap of her own fist into the lines of his robe. Unconscious she had held onto him – the resonate of her soul, unto his. No matter what eon he would choose to garb himself in.

His posture unmoving and towering. Mouth set into a firm line. She could handle herself…he was well aware. Rarely in need of such an old man’s help, but something _primal_ uncurled in his stomach as he watched the man step from the portal. A thread that ran deep over his spine, over flesh and crystal. To keep her safe. Always.

No matter what the cost.

“You must be the guest I felt earlier,” the Exarch managed to ground out through clenched teeth. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I did explicitly tell the assorted lot that we would be meeting again soon,” Emet-Selch gave a shrug, his eyes traveling over the hooded man to the woman behind him. Violet and violent eyes catching within her lashes. “Lest she forget, I made a promise. I have no intention of meddling with your mission. I come only to observe. But…your Exarch friend in particular has piqued my curiosity. Summoning you all like that. Most impressive. And to find you two huddled together, whispers between you how very interesting…”

His smile grew into something cat like. As if he’d eaten a canary, his golden gaze hitting somewhere just near Kalea’s neck. As if he could see the swirl that laced her. The color _red._ Branded into her soul.

“Well my, my, my. What a tangled weave you’ve made. Now, I am more inclined to observe. To see what lies under that mask. What exactly is the nature of this arrangement?”

Kalea’s fingers twisted deeper in his robes. Snaps and sparks at her gaze, while the Exarch gave no word in response. He would give this Ascian _no fuel for this fire._

“The cold shoulder? I am wounded.”

He threw a hand, a small laugh about the ever grinning mouth. “Very well. I shall stay silent on such matters. For now at least, this will be far more entertaining if I am just to watch.”

“You cannot think that we believe you tell the full truth? That you have come only to observe,” Kalea’s gaze flicked up to the Ascian. Her branded shoulder now hidden behind the Exarch. “Or that you might deign to lift a finger to aid our cause if called upon? While there may be a silver of truth to your words, we would be hard pressed to accept such help. Or did you forget the hell you and your companions wrought upon the Source?”

“I meant what I said and I said what I meant,” he shrugged and Kalea heard the low growl at the back of the Exarch’s throat. Quiet and kept between them.

“Wage your war against the sin eaters,” Emet-Selch continued. “Put each and every Lightwarden to the sword. Prove yourself a hero brave and true, and I will be glad to embrace you as an ally. An ally worthy of bearing the burden of truth. And surely such a partnership would be preferable to yet another round of fisticuffs? Perhaps one that might prove to be most beneficial.”

He dropped the words to see what ripples they would make along the water. A glance at the Exarch and…Emet-Selch would not be disappointed. The man’s shoulder’s tensed. Fingers pulled together into a tight fist about his side. And though he couldn’t see it…the eyes were hard as stones. Facets of garnet burning into the Ascian’s figure.

Silence met the offer and Emet-Selch sighed. “…And thus did the olive branch wither and die. Pity. Perhaps you will come to your senses later. One can only hope, when you grow tired of making the same mistakes. Well – let no man say I did not try. Futile as it was. Difficult decisions lie ahead of you. Decisions best made with the benefit of knowledge to which only the eternal are privy.”

“I think I will take my chances,” Kalea snapped with rolls of her aether. It fortified the pride growing in the Exarch’s chest. Her fierceness cherished and given a small smile for.

“Well then, for now I shall resume my shadowy vigil. Whatever you choose to do, make sure it’s worth watching, would you?”

He winked at her… _Winked_ and the Exarch flashed white hot with an inward suck of breath. The hood on his head turned to watch the Ascian disappear into the void. Sharp. Feral. Like circles of predators with a barely suppressed coolness.

An iceberg with a small, calm surface hiding massive facets underneath. He didn’t relent until the portal had winked from sight. Till Emet-Selch’s shadow had disappeared from the crystal floor and the dark aether that heralded him, fading like mist.

Kalea didn’t speak for long moments after. Her knotted fingers letting his robes slip from her grasp, rustled and soft as silk. Her feet were the echo that vibrated oft the walls, moving across the dais to the place where he’d been. That towering Ascian with his too sweet smiles. The Exarch’s hand tightened about his staff.

“Do you think there is some truth to what he says?” the Exarch queried quietly. Struggling to keep the seeded anger from his voice. His hood moving as he watched Kalea, the Hero of Light giving furious gazes to the marble floor. The place of Emet-Selch’s last visage.

“Perhaps. A kernel,” was her thoughtful reply. “All the best lies start with one afterall.”

The Exarch swallowed and lapsed into silence. Something bitter finding its way onto the tongue. He could smell her still. The scent that gave her colors a vibrancy and tangible taste about his skin.

Lilacs and oranges. Violets and citrus.

Lyna’s words rung in his continual hidden ears. Haunted his thoughts when Kalea moved to speak to him again. And though words left his mouth, he barely heard them. The twins arriving soon afterwards with panicked, hard expressions. Uneasy worries as they fretted over their friend – her assurances taking a few bells to find solid root.

The levin she made in his hand still shimmered in his blood.

It had grown stronger than before.

* * *

He was here. He was here with her and the relief at his handsome, smiling face was so much so, that she wanted to weep. For here…and with no other could she feel her most vulnerable. Her most safe. Tucked tightly against him.

“Kalea…oh my love,” he whispered and drew her down to him. Laying her on her side and curled to his chest. His thumbs brushed away the tears that he found at her cheeks. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing…nothing,” she threaded her fingers in his hair. Throwing a leg over his hip and delighting in the low hiss he gave in response. “I just…I miss you Raha. I miss you _desperately.”_

He grinned at her. All kindness and charm and overwhelming affection that it made her heart wish to burst, though something hot flashed about his eyes as she rocked against him. His forehead pressing against her own.

“I am so selfish,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I never sleep anymore save for when you are in the Tower. Kalea, all I want is to protect you. To keep you safe…not that you need such from me. Twelve knows, you are more than capable, but…”

His hands moved from the cusp of her jaw down her shoulders. Ranking her sides and leaving fire in his wake. Kalea felt her eyes flutter, a swirl of his aether catching at her mouth as his lips played over hers. He swallowed her moan when his fingers found their purchase at her hips. Delving under her small clothes to press warm palms to her flesh.

“There are so many dangers pressing against you from all sides,” he growled, meeting her gaze with his own. “And now this… _Ascian_ …would come after you with flowery words and shows of olive branches. I do not trust him, Kalea. The way he looks at you is…”

“Wait,” she pulled back to look at him then. His body stilling immediately at her command, though his lips parted and were desperate for air. The blush that grew on his face when her smile grew teasing was simply adorable. “Are you…are you jealous? G’raha Tia…how could you possibly think that anyone else would – “

“I am not jealous,” he growled and dipped his head down to nip at her skin. To the space that was only his. Delighting in her gasp, how her hips rolled into his on the contact.

“You are,” she laughed and the sound both infuriated and comforted him. Ears dropping to press to his hair. “Never mind, that I spend waking hours longing to the moments when I might sleep, just so that I might see you again. Here in this place of my dreams. Where I can tell you truths and press kisses to your skin that I was desperate to do back in Mor Dhona. _Raha_ …it has only ever been _you.”_

It did not matter he deemed her an illusion. It did not matter that they thought these moments just fleeting wishes of grieving souls, the most primal cries and urges of broken hearts made manifest in imagination. Instead, G’raha Tia let her aether pulse and roll over him. Merging and mending, the shape of her words and the force of their purpose settling over skin and blood. It bloomed like the budding tree in the reaches of his heart. Blossoms and leaves winking into morning sun – heralding the breaking of spring.

He rolled her under him, hips fitted so perfectly into her own. His smile, so bright and unbreaking, Kalea thought he shone like the star. Its light caught between his teeth.

“Only me?” he smirked and nipped at her bottom lip. Letting one of his hands dive under the frail layer of her camise. Palm hot and warm across her stomach. Teasing along the underside of her breast. “No one else caught the Warrior of Light’s fancy?”

“Well, there were a few very pretty Elezen men in Ishgard,” Kalea hummed in reply, pulling a knee up. Opening her thighs wider. The full, heavy and hot press of him up against her wanting core.

“Elezen?” G’raha growled, though his breath became heavy with the effort. He rolled his hips down. Further and fuller against her. Watching as her lashes fluttered and fanned on her cheeks. Open mouthed kisses full of tongue and teeth when his hands found the weight of her breast. Swallowing her whine before pressing lips against her neck. Down the slope of her jaw. “What Elezen men?”

“Ones that stole kisses and… _ah!_ Brought hot chocolate,” she replied through her haze. His hands at her chest driving her to madness. She could feel the jealousy on his aether and she licked her lips. His eyes caught hers from their place near her shoulder. The force of her storm, to meld with his gaze colored crimson. Of blood and red and _life._

“Then, I shall make you forget them,” he promised. Warm breath as he took one of her breasts in his mouth. Hot presses as his members pushed further into hers. “No one else might have you Kalea. Oh, _my love…_ Have I not marked you as **mine?** ”

“You had…better…do it again… _Raha,_ ” she gasped aloud. Fisting her fingers in his cherry colored hair. Rubbing tender circles on his velvet ears. The scent of parchment and sunshine and unmistakable _him_ swirled about her head. His worship of her chest, the sensitive skin there shuddering sparks about her eyes. Snaps and crackles over lids. Her words catching with each upwards press of her hips. “I want to…belong to…ah! Mhm…no one…else…”

G’raha Tia smiled. Filled so full and wanted and _whole._ For a moment he forgot that this was a dream. That she was not real, his fingers and heart aching for her when he awoke only to come up empty…to resume again his stand-off vigil from her in his waking hours.

“I want for nothing else. Oh…my love,” his fingers found hold on her mess of long dark, waving curls. Pulling the tresses out of her ponytail to cascade like waterfall into a waiting palm. The other hand, moved lazily down the muscle of her thigh.

If she wanted him to brand her…mark her…to complete them _both_ \- how could he possibly refuse her?

When he ached and pleaded and longed to do the same.

“And what of-of you?” she smiled out. Lashes tangled together and stars shattering about her eyes. G’raha felt it hard to breathe as he looked at her. “Surely a few kisses do not equal the attention I am sure the handsome G’raha Tia lavished on so many others.”

“Handsome am, I?” his mouth, all plush formations and curves of it, smiled. He felt her laugh bubble up from her chest. His hands still moving to shed the meager layer that prevented him from seeing and tasting and kissing all parts of bare skin. She clawed at him; his shirt quickly following her own at their feet. “And what does it matter…Kalea…I have only _ever thought of you.”_

Her replying soft grin made his heart flutter. Taking wing and flight to land at her feet. Tempered indeed. Since the moment they’d met, he’d never been the same.

His mouth took up residence again at her breast, lavishing attention moving from one to the other. Kalea bowed into him, curling her back and a hand clutched to his shoulder. Tail wrapped around his long calf and thigh. Desperate presses and scratches along his skin. His groan vibrated through her rib cage. Settling into her heart.

Something… **primal** was crawling up G’raha’s spine. Kalea’s whispered voice, calling his name into the curve of his neck. Her mouth at his collarbone. Teeth grazing his skin. Her knees pulling up on either side, flashes of white hot light pressing against his eyelids. Her elegant and crafty fingers finding space between them to dip into his smalls. Wrapping about his sobbing member.

All of it set his blood to throb. Hum. _Burn._ The magics of the Crystal Tower sung into his aether, into the breath of promises and oaths he lay into her. Just as ancient and as arcane as the crystal in which they slept. Weaving them together, a tangled completing mesh of soul and hearts and colors. Kalea could give no words for it, not in any Eorzean tongue…but his mumbles of spell and pledges, threaded around his hot mouth and thick kisses she opened herself to.

Naked and bare. Open so that he might fill her in all the ways she needed.

But his movements were becoming animalistic. Her cries echoing and spurring him to great heights. His ears pressed flat to his head, tail finding her own, teeth moving back up near her neck ever while his hand sough quarry between her thighs. To the wet heat that had been pushed against his own.

“Do not let me awake,” he pleaded to no one. Exploring her mouth with tongue and lips, even as the pads of his middle fingers prodded and searched on their own. She would have frowned at such an odd statement, caught it about her hands and thought at it – but Kalea felt her body to combust. Squirming and desperate and the fire in her stomach so fierce she can’t think anymore.

“Raha…Raha _please…”_

A snap. His basic instincts drowning him. His. Only his. His to claim and _mate and fuck.._. “ _Wicked White,”_ he growls and he’s trembling even as her breathless, whimpering laugh meets his ears.

“Raha…I meant what I…said. I am… **only yours.** ”

And it is a vow all her own.

Feral and overwhelmed and filled with… _love._ G’raha’s fingers swirled and rubbed and –

“Mine. Mine. _Mine,_ ” he ground over her neck, into the layers of her hair. Lilacs and orange and aether of amethyst. She quivered in his arms, mindless and overwhelmed. His hand curled into her core, and there was nothing timid about him as they slipped in. Slick and wet. Plying and worshiping her. Kalea couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. But there was also nothing shy in the manner in which she clung to him. Bites peppering his shoulders. Red whelps blooming on his pale skin like flowers. A twitching, tangled and beautiful mess that he’d made.

“Say it again,” he demanded and another finger joined the first. “Promise me. Swear it to me. So that I can remember this in my waking hours when you are lost…”

“Yours…yours,” she panted in agreement and cried out his name when his mouth latched onto her neck. The same space well worn by his teeth. In the haze G’raha wondered what it would feel like to have her take him in. Wrapped and sheathed and soft. To replace his hand with the throbbing, thick piece at his legs. To burn and be buried and _drown in her._

He moans and he can feel it coming. See it in the twitching of her legs. Her fluttering lashes. The way his true name is a forever stream from her mouth though it’s halted in a mute scream. All reason lost as he tumbles her over the edge. A cascade of shuddering for her completion and suddenly he’s twitching. Growling. Drawing blood from her shoulder. For when she came so perfectly against his hand, it in turn brings about his own.

She comes _hard._ White hot and blinding. All consuming and lost. G’raha shatters – his own pleasure throbbing and unexpected and _unending._ He bellows, tail curling and back arching. She breaks him apart only to remake him. They remake each other…in their own image. Waves that slam and pull and push. Shaking lips that find each other to give open mouthed kisses of ragged breath.

“Wh…what was…” he wonders aloud. His eyes dazed and clouded with passion when he looks at her. The mess they’ve made of one another. Curling and tucking her slender form into his chest. A struggle to maintain the gasps that make his chest rise and fall. “That was…Kalea…”

She has no words for him. Just a parted, breathless mouth and violet gaze framed by the tangle of her hair. His heart swells again, for he has never seen her look so _beautiful._

“I…I don’t know…” she answers at last. Feeling weak and warm and whole. “I could… _feel you._ Your…your pleasure was – I am overwhelmed. And you’ve ruined me, I hope you know. For any…anyone else. Raha…”

He chuckles, all that’s left of him to spend as he can feel darkness and the void slipping. His heartbreak rising, cracks in his smile that he gives her because soon he will wake. She can see it, for she feels the same.

“As you have for me, my love. No one,” he promises and kisses her again. “No one.”

Her fingers thread through his hair. Her tail about his hip. Pulse matching her own. His hand reaches forward, trembling and warm to press against the mark. Forever to be ingrained in her. Swirls of his aether, the one of royal blood and ancient towers and crystal facets are laced in that place. Red and life and violets.

She smiles and kisses him. Love at her mouth.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please PLEASE EXCUSE my shameful use of in game dialogue :sobs: This is an AU but I try to occasionally stick to the original direction of ShB...which in turn allows me to use their own conversations. I have no idea if it actually works, lol.
> 
> This is my last daily update and now hopefully will stick to a schedule of twice weekly, (Hopefully being the key term). I hope to keep my writing momentum going - writer's block looooves to hang around my house and be a complete ass.
> 
> I know I say it everytime, but thank you - thank you - MAHALO from my heart for all the kudos, bookmarks, comments and love for this fic. I want to reply to every single one - but I just get so nervous and sputtering. Just know, they give me courage and strength in ways I can't even describe. I owe each and every one of you the biggest and most heartfelt thank you. I will never be able to say it enough.
> 
> Mahalo


	7. In Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,  
> Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.  
> Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments  
> Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,  
> That, if I then had waked after long sleep,  
> Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,  
> The clouds methought would open, and show riches  
> Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked,  
> I cried to dream again.”  
> ― The Tempest, Act III: Scene II

The knock at her door was a firm rapt of attention. Light enough that she could feign sleeping through – but such a falsehood was pointless. Kalea had been awake to watch the sun paint its morning colors through the horizon. Lost to her thoughts and eyes unfocused. Never moving from the bed, rather tangled in the sheets. Flushed against her skin that had burned through the night. Burned and pulsed and combusted against the dreams of G’raha Tia.

Where his mouth and his hands had broken her apart at the seams.

It was as if she could still feel his aether on her tongue. Smell his scent coating her skin. His honeyed and smiling voice in her ear. Their vow woven and tangled about her heart. Her own person. The very crux of her soul.

A dream…she thought. Only a dream for G’raha Tia was still lost to her. In ways that cracked her open. Bled and dying upon the floor.

But the knock came again and this time it drew Kalea up from the bed. The ghost of G’raha curled against her fading with the blurring dawn. Washing colors of pale yellow and softened lavender. Glimmering and caught in the window pane. It reminded her of his smile. Warmth on her skin.

Pressed fingers to her shoulder.

“My lady Kalea, if you would forgive the early hour,” Lyna’s voice came through wood and iron. Brows raised in surprise on Kalea’s forehead. Ears pressed flat to her tangled hair. “But, I have…I wanted…I am to deliver something to you.”

She tugged on her robe, stepping bare feet across marble to open wide the door. The Captain was there. Armor set and well-worn, as if she’d just arrived from a patrol. The Viera’s ears turned and rotated, eyes a strange mix of resolution and…nervousness. A shift at the hips. Kalea blinked to see it, curiosity tugging at her shoulders.

“Do you need something Captain? A Sin Eater attack or…” she cocked her head as Lyna simply gave a curt nod. Long strides stepping forward and standing like an intruder in the middle of the room. Still wondering Kalea shut the door behind her. Crossing her arms at her chest and pushing long hair away from her neck. “Or something other, I take it.”

“I know this is rather unexpected,” Lyna began, shuffling her feet for a moment and staring down at the parcel in her hands. It drew Kalea’s gaze. A wicker tray. Its contents hidden away by the folds of a checkered cloth. “But, I wanted to give this to you.”

She held it out with a gentle hand. As if the contents were precious. Kalea couldn’t seem to seem to remove the look of confusion and mild amusement to see the normally stoic Captain as such. She took the precious cargo from Lyna’s fingers, cradling it to her chest to remove its wrapping.

As assortment of well-crafted and well-made sandwiches. Neatly arranged in bright rows; flashes of colors. The care taken in their formation apparent. A card tucked into the folds between cloth and wicker.

“The Exarch made those for you,” Lyna said resolutely and watched as Kalea’s face lifted to her own, lips parting in surprise. “Despite his protests and immature negligence at his own nourishment, he is adamant to take care of you. I do not know what time he arose, for my Lord rarely sleeps now as of late, but I do know there was great care put into them. Most do not know it, but he is a fine cook. And…”

She trailed off suddenly. Shuffling her feet and picking at the invisible smudge upon her pauldrons. Kalea moved blinking, rounded eyes from the Captain to the bounty presented in her hands.

“All this is for me?” she asked and there was a softness to her voice. The images of the hooded Exarch swirling before her. Plush lips. Smiling face. Crystal and pale skin glittering against the backdrop of the tower. His… _hands at work._ Kalea frowned a bit – the nagging pulse at the back of her mind pulling. Tugging. A strange throb at the point where her neck sloped into her collar bone.

Another one in the pool of her stomach.

She looked up just in time to see Lyna’s nod. “Feo Ul tried to give assistance, but I am afraid the pixie proved more chattery than productive. My Lord was…hesitant to disturb you this morning and called away on another matter. Therefore I took it upon myself for the delivery.”

She shuffled again and Kalea stared. The framing of her tone shaping just how highly she thought of the Crystarium’s guardian. Of a man crafted into her kin through his own choice. It made a smile pull at a corner of her mouth. Slight twinges of envy when her own childhood spent in abuse and loneliness, but it was short lived. For the flourish about her chest was there instead. A budding affection for the Exarch growing fruit.

The marking pulsed strangely once more.

“I shall give him my thanks,” she replied and replaced the cloth over the well-loved creation. “It’s a very kind gesture and I…”

“Forgive me Hero, but that is not the only reason why I have come.” Lyna’s voice broke through Kalea’s own. The Viis’s eyes dipped towards the floor and a sigh popped at her mouth before she continued. “I know that this is not proper, but I would state it all the same. My Lord he is… _very fond_ of you. I simply wished…” another huff of breath even as blooms of color appeared on her cheeks. Embarrassment at even having brought up such a subject, but Lyna was determined.

She loved her grandfather after all. And it was clear to anyone with eyes – that he loved this exotic, little mystrel woman. More than she could give word to.

“I only wished to bring it to your attention,” Lyna finished. Fortifying her spine as if she was a green trooper presented to the guard. “I just ask that you take care of him, Hero. He deserves…every happiness this life as to offer. As swift and as cruel as it is on this star, no one here would deny his merit. He…smiles with you. In ways that I have never seen.”

Kalea flushed. Something pulling and tugging _hard_ at her chest. The center of her heart. Echoing along her ribs in that same vein. It radiated from that point on her skin. The one in her dreams _he_ lavished over. Worn under teeth and lips and aether.

Strange. She felt strange.

For a brief moment, the flesh made hands of G’raha were replaced by ones turned to facets of crystal.

She cursed the veil that was continually held before her eyes. Cursed it with a fury. Kalea would continue to slam against it. Feeling the cracks in its formation, but it wasn’t enough. It remained solid. Bitter and sour on her tongue.

But, the sandwiches were precious. Such a small act of kindness that warmed her. It had been so long since someone thought on her in such a way. As not a weapon to hurdle against oncoming enemies, not a woman made of steel and unbreaking iron, but rather someone flesh and blood.

Someone to…care for.

 _He cared for her._ This shadowed man with his smiling lips and honeyed voice.

Honeyed voice…

“Tis not my place,” Lyna broke Kalea from her thoughts. Wiping away the trail she was making like mist disappearing from sunbreaks. “And my Lord would be…displeased to discover I have told you such, but…”

“No,” Kalea found her own voice. Soft but unwavering. A smile about the mouth. An ache blooming under her skin, but she pressed her gift tighter to her chest all the same. “You only act as you see fit. The Exarch is an enigma. I do not pretend to understand him, nor am I assured of his motivations in keeping such things secret from me. The man _frustrates_ me to no end – I am not used to being kept in the dark and it the extent as to which is done so…”

It is Kalea’s turn to huff. Blowing a waving thread of hair away from her own full mouth. Violet eyes snapping with equal measures annoyance and growing fondness. “Regardless, I am sure he has his reasoning. Just as I do in breaking them. But, Captain you should know that I am not looking for any measure of companionship. There is merely –“

“Say what you will, but I have seen something going on between the two of you. I am not blind. Tell me you have not felt it? Tell me that I am _wrong and I will drop it._ ”

Kalea’s mouth snapped shut. There was that pulse again. Aether colored red and smiles like sunshine. Threaded through her. A swirling mix of G’raha that whispered into her ear. But, now it would meld with the shadowed face of the Exarch. Alongside and patient. Quiet comfort that was selfless and protective. The way his robes had felt twisted in her fingers.

Kalea didn’t answer. Stubbornness her ever constant companion, but Lyna left it as such. Saluting the young woman with firm and resolute swiftness. “As I stated, just think on it my lady. Enjoy your breakfast.”

She left in a flurry of armor and a cape stained blood red. The door was soft as it clicked shut, but the silence was almost deafening. It echoed in Kalea’s ears. Pressed flat to her hair in response.

The note stuck out in the basket with cheerful observation. As if just waiting for its chance to break open; speaking it words of comfort aloud to wash over her weary and tangled mess of a body.

“ _I hope the past few days have not been overly taxing. Pray take your rest and recover.”_

The Exarch’s handwriting was formal and elegant. Clear letters that curved into one another with the ease of a practiced scholar. A well learned and academic individual.

Kalea frowned again when she started at it.

“From the Exarch, is it? You are becoming quite popular. I would echo the prior comment. He seems to care for you and with that mirror of his, he could watch your every move you know. What might he think of this other you are so in love with? Would he be jealous? Or maybe think you’re mad for whispering his name while you sleep.”

She looked over at Ardbert’s shimmering form. His eyes moving from her newly acquired treasure to the note about in her fingers.

“No more than when it seems I’m talking to myself with you around,” she replied and placed the assortment of food upon her table. The note staying in her hands for a few bells longer. “Especially since you seem to come and go as you damn well please.”

“At least he’s keeping you well-fed,” Ardbert smirked. Shrugging his massive shoulders, which gave no sound. “And judging by his people’s faith in him, he seems to be a decent sort. The Captain is proof enough of such kindness. You are another. More than proof I should say.”

“I have never doubted his decency,” Kalea replied with a sigh. Her head tilted as her lashes closed in thought. A nagging headache pulled at back of her head. She resisted the urge to crawl back into bed. Lose herself in sheets and the gaze of someone’s sanguine eyes. “Merely that so much about him remains cloaked in mystery. As I am sure you well heard; I am unaccustomed to being kept in the dark. Consider it a flaw of mine.”

“Mhm,” the hum of agreement was swift. “Like what was he doing back in my day? There was no such person when I was around.”  
“Was there not?” her eyes opened at that. Snaps and swirls of color. He couldn’t help but give another shrug. One more akin to retreat at the subject rather than indifference.

“A lot’s happened since the Flood, though. Since I was…set adrift. I know little more than you do of this city’s history and the Exarch’s past. Though…not that it matters. It is Emet-Selch that we should be concerned about.”

He crossed his arms, staring hard at the non-existent scuff of boot across marble floor. A sharpness about his blue eyes. “When our world was about to be consumed by Light, the Ascian in white appeared before us. He said that the only way for us to live on was to bring about the Rejoining and desperate as we were, we heeded his words. Not realizing that the Flood was of the Ascian’s own making.”

“You cannot blame yourself for that Ardbert,” Kalea interjected with a velvet wrapped fierceness. He didn’t look at her, his head hung as if a great weight pressed upon it. Shame. Guilt. She knew these emotions all too well. “They have manipulated far wiser men than you or I. Do not let them make a mockery of your kindness.”

“Is that an insult on your intelligence or on mine?” he cracked a smile at last though the layers of sadness coated across its corners.

“Neither. Think of it as assurance.”

“Emet-Selch had one thing right,” he huffed and turned to look at her. This slender woman that held the salvation of a home he could no longer touch. “One should not fight blindly. That’s what we…what _I did._ And it cost us everything we held dear.”

Kalea looked at the perfect assortment of waiting sandwiches. Delicate and placed into the rows with precise care. Her fingers wandered to the mark upon her skin. The one that still bled and tingled with an aether that was their merged colors. _Raha’s_ mouth. Voice. Touch. His promises to her richer than any measure of taste she could put upon her tongue.

Her heart twisted all over again in these waking hours.

“Ardbert,” she whispered in that quiet room. “Did you ever love someone? Before all this…mess. You’ve made it blatantly clear you’re aware of my ever present feelings for a man who has been… _lost_ to me. I merely wondered if you have experienced the same.”

She trailed off. Nails about her skin. The robe catching. A rattling in her ribs where broken pieces of her slammed into the other. Sometimes she wondered how G’raha Tia had affected her so strongly. How a few months in those halcyon summer days could have changed her into a woman made of storm and steel, inward forever breaking to lose a part of herself. The part she locked away with him when he shut the Tower. Her companion. Her _dearest friend._

How love as fierce and as strong as she felt for him, had taken such deep roots. To unearth it would destroy her.

But, in honesty Kalea didn’t care. She couldn’t change it. No anymore than she could being her Mother’s chosen. The rotation of this star. Or the timber of her voice. The color of her soul.

She wouldn’t change it. Not even if she could.

But the ghost beside her just gave her a sad smile. A one knowing and knowledgeable about its shape. A reflection of pain that was far too much like her own.

“I did.”

And it was all he said for a long while. Till Kalea took a seat at the table and drew near to her meal. Colors and fresh brightness breaking under her fingers. Delicious in her mouth. Ardbert spoke on other things then. Of his adventures. His companions. The Amaro she had met in Il Mheg. He brightened with the memories and Kalea was content to simply listen for a while. Filling his pauses with memories of her own adventures. Traipsing and escapades about her star.

The Exarch’s gentle and loving offering was eaten in the process. Kalea consumed every bite.

The mark on her shoulder strangely humming in almost peaceful contentment.

* * *

He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. There was a mess about his head; tangles against his heart. The same feeling that had barreled through him when he’d awoke. Twilight and glittering star shine still kept overhead, though the fading fingers of dawn crawled at the edges. The door to his own balcony had been thrown open, a cacophony of night sounds that had been lost to this world for a century. Strange. As if this star didn’t know how to process a world of draped velvet and wrapped darkness; but would try all the same. Salvation returning in the form of a slender woman with storm colored eyes and a teasing smile. One that whispered, pleaded, sobbed his name and allowed him to worship her in his dreams. Tongue and teeth and skin. His aether blurring and melding with hers.

When he awoke, however his bed was empty.

It would always be empty.

The Exarch ran his untouched hand over his face. Callouses and long digits over the lines of his cheekbones. The crystal about his cheek. Jagged and humming with aether. Alive on the skin, speaking of a destiny he had moved time and space for. For the salvation of this star. For the calamity of the rejoining so that he might save them.

To save _her._

All of it…for Kalea.

The emptiness of his room haunted him. A sweet and unbearable torture, for her scent still lingered across his bare skin. Pressed tight against his chest. Wrapped around him like a cocoon. She fled his dreams, as she had done every time and though G’raha Tia had moved heaven and earth to meet her here, lost and alone with memories of her love were too much.

Too much and yet…not nearly enough.

No matter the circumstances and aches of his desperate wishing heart, Kalea was still here. In the flesh. Whole and real and breaking. He knew what was coming…what the burden of light would force upon her. What he was asking her to do and he could not abandon her to such a fate unsupported. He would carry her…until the very end. Until he snatched that mantle away. For either as G’raha Tia or as the Crystal Exarch he would never stop trying to keep her safe. His choice. His decisions. All of it for her.

So the Exarch made her breakfast.

Surprising to some, but in the centuries he’d been alive he’d turned into quite the culinarian. Long gone were the days where he’d content himself with handfuls of berries and nuts; paired with a trapped rabbit. Crafting a nation from scratch could push one into situations of necessity. He’d found that a populace fed with well-made meals tended to take things easier in stride. Clinging to hope and encouragement a little tighter. A fortification that emerged from within the self, and not just at his urging words. In this world where faith was ever frail, even the smallest measure of comfort was one he readily gave.

He wanted to give that to Kalea.

Feo Ul had popped in near the end to oversee his progress. Bright colors and swirls of chatter. The Fae King was delighted at the prospect of helping to feed his ‘darling branch,’ though the mess of jams and fruit he made was more of a concoction of almost finger painting than true nourishment. But the finished product was one he was proud of and he hoped she would like it. A nervousness he rarely experienced fluttered at the edges when he thought about it. He had thought about delivering it himself, but shyness and the remembrance of his dream, (where they had broken each other apart and filled to an over flow of shattering pleasure) left him with red cheeks and racing heart. Shadows may keep her from seeing him; but his flush was something he couldn’t seem to control.

He felt a hormonal kit all over again.

In the end, the decision was made for him. Lyna emerged to brief him over the guard reports that had arrived – demanding attention. His gift to Kalea was passed over from its place clutched to his chest into Lyna’s waiting hands, her promises of utmost delivery putting him a bit at ease. Though, the small smile at the Viis’s mouth and the way Feo Ul had whispered with rolling giggles into her large ear when he left were a little less assuring.

The paperwork he’d been given a few bells hence was still clutched in his fingers. Heavy and pulling him down. Even as he strode through the upper floors of the Rotunda, the rest of the Crystarium hushed and groggy. Morning breaks and pale dawn making his shadow full. Alone. Stretching from stone and marble even as the Tower drew closer. He would have to do something about this. For if the Eulmoran airship would bring anything than the messenger it promised…

“You are lost in your thoughts this morning Exarch. Am I disturbing you?”

He turned quickly. Breath released from his mouth and heart slamming against his ribs as if it rotated with his movement. He may have appeared to be mildly and pleasantly surprised by her arrival, but that didn’t stop his inward flush upon seeing her at last. Nor, the memory of what he’d experienced the night before.

Her sobbing his name. His _true name._ Breaking her apart with his fingers.

In his dreams he loved her openly and without a single reservation.

There was a great part of him that wished to do it now. To wrap her into his arms and press smiling, hot kisses to her mouth. To hear her laugh and have her tell of her adventures; even as he peeled away clothing, to keep her to his bed. To speak to her, to cherish her. To… _love her._

But the Exarch had banished G’raha Tia away a long time ago. For reasons that were too great to turn from. He couldn’t look back. He couldn’t.

Kalea was standing with her hands about her hips, a small raise to her brows. Her smile was amused, and he was strongly reminded of how she’d looked at him all those years ago. In the shade of crystals, reflected color on the planes of her face. She glitter of her eyes. When he had been just a scholar determined to find some place about the world.

“Kalea,” he smiled and shook his hooded head. Turning with a light smack of his staff upon the floor so he might face her. “Not at all, I just did not expect to see anyone about so early.”

“Does the Crystal Exarch even sleep? I have heard rumors that such trivial mortal matters do not even plague you.”

He chuckled lightly. “I assure you, I am very human. Though, sustained by the Tower I do not need as much rest…that, however does not mean I am immune to exhaustion. Occasionally, I sleep…”

He trailed off, a flush breaking over the lines of his neck. He almost slapped a hand over it. Struggling to think on _anything else_ save how she looked and felt and sounded in those illusive dreams of his. Those agonizing, torturous, _desperate_ pleadings of a sundered soul separated from it’s very self.

At least…that is what it was growing to feel like. For here, in this world – in this reality, the Exarch was alone. No hands about his own, woven fingers into the spaces missing in his flesh. No lips whispered to his skin. No soft, comforting, _loving_ touches to ease the ache that had grown about his chest from the centuries spent in isolation. Nothing.

Alone.

Here he was alone.

“Mhm, there are a great many things I wonder about you,” Kalea continued, tapping a finger to the curve of her waist. “And I can make my own hypotheses as to how you spend your day, but I did not expect culinarian to be included on a list of your talents.”

She laughed and brushed her hair away from the dancing light of her eyes. The Exarch watched the motion, thinking how he had only just tugged and threaded and breathed into those loose tresses that were now pulled away in a high ponytail. Her chuckle made him blush. His own shy smile emerging at the turns of his lips.

“I enjoyed the breakfast,” she continued and the sincerity of her gaze made him grown warm. Like a cat curled about a shaft of sunlight. “It has been a long time since someone made me something to eat with care. Normally, while I am content to take what I can, do not tell anyone…but I secretly like the luxury of a good meal.”

His grin grew, a chuckle bubbling there at the bob of his throat. “Your secrets are always safe with me. And I am…glad that you liked it. Very much so.”

“I know you would direct me towards Lightwardens,” she continued and moved a bit closer. Something about and within, pulling them tighter. They orbited, rotated and pulled. Gravity within the center of their beings. Ever since the moment he’d met her. Turned eyes upon her and felt her hand in his own.

Her fingers pressed to her neck absent-mindedly, drawing his gaze for a moment. The smallest of wondering frowns finding purchase there. It didn’t last. Her face pulled him back like a magnet.

“And you would not be the first to ask me to use my power in such a way, nor would I assume that you would be the last but…” she shrugged, and now it was her turn to blush. To turn shy about the edges of her persona. It was always a strange thing to see. The Exarch’s fingers itched to curve around the shape of her jaw. “You are one of the few to not merely see me as a means to an end. A blunt, if not powerful weapon, to use in the ways you deem most important. You care that I eat. That I rest. That I might see glimpses of Norvrandt as you do. Not as another world to be saved – but people with every hope and dream desperate in their hands. And I wish to thank you for that. Truly.”

He blinked and surprise made his lips part. “You do not need to thank me for that.”

“I wish to do it all the same. I would hate for it to go unspoken.”

Something sad tugged at him then. At this small, beautiful thing that destiny at times had given the harshest of fates. For she seemed, in ways, just as alone. He couldn’t help it anymore. His spoken hand, the one still of flesh and blood made to reach out to her. Hovering just about her skin.

“Does it bother you?” he whispered and he was almost there. His hesitation the only thing keeping him back. “To be considered a weapon?”

“Perhaps it did, in the beginning,” she answered slowly, her vibrant gaze turning thoughtful. “To be assumed into something, a role not chosen but forced. But, it doesn’t matter anymore. I am powerful and I would not abandon others to a disparaging fate. Not when I might help them. Not when I might…change it. Since you have promised to keep my secrets, I shall tell you another. It… _hurts._ When I cannot save someone. When I think on things I could have done. What could have been.”

Her gaze strayed for a moment to the tower. Glittering. Looming. A character alive and present all its own. The Exarch swallowed and sucked in a breath. Damn his reasons…for just this moment. He would comfort her in the only ways he could. This young woman who had bewitched him. Willing and sworn to her till his last breath.

“I would keep safe anything you want to tell me. I do not like that you bear these things alone.”

His fingers finally took her hand. Callouses and slender curves. Spaces that melded and fit so perfectly into one another and as soon as it began – she snatched it away. Wide eyes and parted mouth to stare at each other.

Levin. Aether and shocks and _shifts._ His touch-starved skin had imagined it surely. For this had not happened since…since…

The Exarch blinked. Memories and lifetimes and ages ago when she’d shaken his hand for the first time. When his soul had _shifted._ He almost panted, a stirring at his chest and he begged himself to comply against the turbulent desire to take her. Then. Here. _Now._ Damned to seven hells anyone who would see them. He wanted to know what it was like…to feel her skin pressed to his own in living flesh and not just the feverish night dreams of an old man.

Kalea pressed a palm to her neck. The hallow curve of her collar bone. Ears flat against her hair. She almost hissed through the clench of her teeth. Eyes formations of storm. He didn’t know if he should fear her anger or the smoldering look that circled around the edges more.

He prayed Urianger’s glamour continued to hold.

“You,” she whispered and took steps closer to him. Their chests almost brushing. He was almost a full head taller than her, and yet there was a gulp at his throat. How could he not baulk under the weight of her eyes. “I _know_ you are hiding something from me. Many things, but the greatest being just who you are under that cowl. I feel as if when I try to focus on an answer tis like looking into a fogged mirror. The reflection is distorted. But what I do not understand most…”

Gentle fingers reaching outwards. The Exarch’s breath was fast and panicked through the nose. Chest thundering wildly. He wondered if the Tower itself would pulse with it. A roaring fire simmering and burning to consume him. Barely kept together under the film of his guise.

Everything always felt so _wrong_ until those moments when her flesh met his. Though he flinched away when her hand cradled the edges of his crystalized cheek. But, she would never be deterred. He should have known this by now. Her skin was so warm he almost keened aloud.

“Why?” her voice was softer now. Pleading and raw. Eyes searching for a gaze she couldn’t meet. For pieces to clues he wouldn’t give. “Why are you so… _afraid of me?_ We…we knew each other, didn’t we? Tell me.”

A demand. He almost wanted to laugh aloud, for she was a bossy thing. But, her touch would shatter this dam. The Exarch’s trembling spoken hand covering across her own. He almost broke aloud to finally, _finally_ feel her touching him.

“Yes,” he sobbed.

“Then why hide yourself from me? What could you possibly have to gain with such drastic measures? If you are in trouble I can…”

But he shook his head. Refusing to disentangle himself, even as she drew him in further. Her other hand mimicked the motions on jaw. Cradled. Cherished. He was _starving for her._

“You cannot. _I cannot._ I will protect you, no matter the cost to me or this mantle that I have taken up. It must be this way.”

“You will make me a broken record, to keep asking _why!_ ” She spoke between them. Eyebrows furrowing and eyes shimmering with her aether. The one that would consume him. Violets. Lavender. The colors that made his resolve crumbling. “Lyna mentioned it to me this morning and try as I may, I cannot _stop_ thinking _about it!”_

His lips broke apart, surprise catching him just as much as the pulse resonating within him. Sparks. Shocks. The Exarch’s soul was _aching._ “What did she say?”

“That there is something… _between us,_ ” she responded. Voice measured in frustration and admittance. Her soft, full breasts pushed against the folds of his cloaks as she moved towards him. Backing him into corners where he couldn’t escape. The Exarch released a strangled groan and struggled to remember why he should wish for this to stop.

Dreams were one thing…but here she was real. Whole. He had been worshipping her for so long; a man condemned and resigned to mere memories and fleeting glances between them. It had been enough. It _should_ have been enough.

He didn’t deserve this. Did not deserve her trust. Affection. The way she was _looking at him._

“Am I imagining it?” she continued and he wondered when his hand had moved to cradle the side of her neck. More Levin. They drew towards each other like magnets set upon their poles. No matter his will, he couldn’t stop from stooping closer to her. Breath about her own parted, delicious looking mouth.

“No,” he whispered. His heart in his voice. “Tis not just you.”

“Then, remove this film over yourself!” she almost growled. The fingers along his jaw brushed his hair. The small bangs that had escaped his hood. The color was shadowed, but her clever digits threaded about them all the same. “I want to know you. I want to _know the real you!_ Why do you deny me of this?”

“Do not ask me to change it, Kalea!” he snapped back in an almost equal fury. Her temptation was destroying him. “I have made up my mind centuries before! No matter _what the cost,_ I would save you! I _swore that –“_

But, he didn’t finish. Kalea had pulled him down with the touch on his skin. Flesh and crystal obeyed at once to her demand.

She covered his mouth with her own.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lonely Exarch breaks my heart.
> 
> This was hard to formulate and get out - I hope the emotions are there and they transfer well.
> 
> Thank you all, Mahalo x a thousand for each and every kudos, bookmark, comment and view. My heart is so full and so encouraged. It keeps me going when writing gets difficult, you all are the very best.


	8. Brave New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “O, wonder!  
> How many goodly creatures are there here!  
> How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,  
> That has such people in't!”  
> \- The Tempest, Act V: Scene I

The Exarch _broke._ G’raha Tia roaring awake.

His moan was a tangible thing as it rumbled from his own body, vibrating into Kalea. Clutching and pressing her to him. As if they would meld. A relentless fire to overtake him with a vengeance. Want. Desperation. The groans welling up from a soul, straining and wretched to meet hers. Heartsick and starved for her.

No matter what age this was. No matter that his body had changed and been mutated by the Tower. None of that had ever changed. Their aether lovingly crashed to merge. Violets and red. The frail veil still holding his _true_ self from her seeking gaze; but the deep, primal pieces of her – the ones that had lived countless lives and crossed star shatters would always recognize him. No matter that her subconscious could give no voice and definitive hold to it in her waking hours.

It didn’t matter. She tilted her head to open her mouth for him and he poured into her. Tongue and teeth and aether. She _belonged to him._

“I…can…not…” he whispered even as his tongue crossed over the seam of her lips. His staff slipped from his hand. Clattered to the floor with an ignored, echoing noise. Allowing them instead to bracket her against the wall. Their positions he would change in an instant. Covering and looming his form over her, even as he strangled with words made nonsensical. Mouth _working like_ mad, on and in her own.

“I cannot do…this…you must tell me to… _stop_ …”

“How can I, when I feel it too?” Kalea responded with an almost bite. Fisting her fingers into the length of his robes. Her back pressed against stone and steel. Breasts to the wide expanse of his chest.

His knee was pushing and spreading up between her legs. There was such utter relief to just _press_ against that column of strong, unmoving flesh. Glorious friction that pulsed through her like the vibrations on a drum. The way he made her _feel_ to be pinned here beneath him. Trapped and enflamed. As if she was made to be in this space before him. The mark on her skin was so alive, Kalea wondered if it had become a living thing. The constant pull and tug and _need._ Woven tighter and tighter with each press of his mouth to hers.

“How long…since someone has…touched you?” she wondered, her heart almost shattering with the agonizing whine that broke from his throat when her fingers dusted with _tenderness_ across his skin. The strangely alive feel of the crystalized sections of his jaw and throat.

“ _Ages,_ ” his answer was sobbed into her neck. Fingers fisting in her hair to tug at it. Opening her up to his lips for further exploration. Drawing closer and closer to the mark that was still held secret from his waking self. Though…he was pulled to it. Like a moth to a flame.

Forever a desire to _have her._ Claim her. Take her.

To _love her_ for every lasting moment he had alive on this, or any other star. To ages beyond if allowed.

But, he couldn’t. And the small part of his mind that still relented to reason would argue that his time was short. Fading. He was being so _selfish_ to take this affection she freely gave him. Guilt and shame and _loss_ dug into the Exarch’s core, even as he struggled to stifle G’raha Tia back down. Desperate to stop his true self to meet what he’d become. To pull off his cowl and prostrate at her feet to confess _everything._ To beg her forgiveness.

She whimpered, her hips pushing against his thigh. Lashes fluttered closed and bruised mouth parted. The Exarch could _feel it._ The hum and buzzing of her rushing pleasure creeping up his back. Shivers on his skin. He knew this connection they were forging and making between them, that if he broke her apart to tumble down into the void of pleasure, he would quickly follow after.

He pushed her harder to the wall behind. Reason be damned to seven hells. So _wet. Slick and aching._ He could feel himself throbbing in weeping response. How could they both already be so close? Standing upon the edge of knife. Ready to tangle and topple over without hesitation.

Through his haze, he could barely question why they were being tied as such. Why he could _feel her_ so vividly as he did. The magics of the Tower bleeding out from him to smother into her body. Unknowing he was solidifying this bond between them. Ancient and primordial. Actions and spells of the arcane formulated from their most desperate wishes.

“Kalea,” he mumbled against the armor that covered where her neck met her shoulder. Fingers toying and playing with the fabric there. One more moment…one flick of his crystalized hand and he would see it. That pulse that he had made the first time he sunk his teeth into her. To mark and take and _brand._

“Tell me,” she both demanded and begged. Head lolling over to be cradled by his other hand made of flesh and warm skin. His thumb finding purchase at her mouth. Dragging it over her lip. “Tell me… _who you are…_ Tell me why I feel _this way…_ ”

“Kalea…I…I…” His breath was hot and smoldering. Shaded eyes that drank her in. She was so close he could taste her pleasure, her aether…her soul on his tongue. He had almost revealed that mark to the air, to awake his knowledge and -

“Kalea? Where is… _Seven hells!_ ”

The Exarch released her as if he’d been burned. Kalea suddenly wide eyed and grasping at the wall behind her for some semblance of balance. Struggling on weak, trembling legs to appear a measure of composure. Never mind that her tousled hair, broken swollen lips and glittering eyes spoke volumes when no words were needed. No…Alisaie had caught them completely and irrevocably, red handed.

“Exarch,” the young twin said with the most coyish and growing smirk. Her acknowledgment of greeting coupled with a bob of her head; watching as he labored to right himself. To fix his robes and retrieve his forgotten staff from the floor. His cowl hid his furious and blinding flush that made his eyes absolutely _smolder,_ but that did nothing to stop his shaking hand from covering his mouth. Pants and the taste of her all drowning about his head.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Alisaie continued darting glances between the caught pair. “I was just looking for Kalea and one of the Chirurgeons mentioned to seeing her in this direction.”

“Tis…we were…that is to say…” The Exarch fumbled brilliantly. Mumbled words through the opening between his fingers. He wondered if steam was coming out of his unseen ears. Alisaie gave him no quarter, but her Cheshire grin was pulling wide on both corners. Merely waiting. Arms crossed and a hum about the throat.

He swallowed, chancing a glance towards the woman at his right, still hiding underneath the safety of his cowl. Feeling his blood and the very Tower roar in his ears.

Kalea was silent, brushing her tousled hair from about vibrant eyes that almost _glowed._ Lips stung and parted; she looked ravished. Resplendent and… _utterly beautiful._ Her aether was brimming and boiling. Sharp. Storming. She released a shaking breath while wavering on her feet. Thighs pressed firmly together.

It didn’t matter. He could _smell her._ Feel her and taste it on his tongue. The unheard cries of her soul to his that were so loud they cascaded like screams in his ears.

His throat was far too dry to make the words sound anything less than gravel. “Forgive me,” he rasped, though to whom it was left open ended. Hanging in the air like smoke. “I…didn’t mean…”

This was so unbearably _awkward._ Alisaie would refuse to relent, and if the growing shocks and swirls of everything tasting of _violets_ beside him was in any indication, Kalea was _not pleased._ Not to mention that the Exarch struggled against every fiber of his muscle and flesh, against the sobs of his own heart to _ignore_ the instinct threading up his spine. Bellows from the Tower that only obeyed what he desperately wanted.

To absolutely - irrevocably… _fuck her_ till they lost their minds. To mate and claim and _own._ To give himself to Kalea so there was nothing left. Possession and tempered. Tis all he’d ever _wanted._

“Are you sure?” He vaguely heard Alisaie grinning through tight teeth. “Because it looked _exactly_ as if you were meaning to do something…”

Kalea prickled. The furious blush still covering the planes of her cheeks. “Alisaie,” she said in a voice poorly concealing both her embarrassment and fury. “This is…”

“Sir! My Lord Exarch!” Shouts and armored steps and quick salutes that offered no room for response. “Sir, urgent news! There is…”

Lyna blinked. Opening her mouth and sniffing through the nose. Confusion falling upon her brow for a moment when it tugged downwards. “Is aught a miss? My Lord, are you unwell? And the Hero looks as if she might be ill…”

“Oh I assure you they are _perfectly healthy,_ ” Alisaie turned to catch the Captain’s querying look. “They were only just…”

“Alisaie!” Kalea snapped, while the Exarch moved towards Lyna as quickly as his trembling body would allow. Tightened fingers on his staff to regulate his chaotic whirl of inappropriate thoughts.

He was not a youth in heat, for god’s sake. Wicked White. He _would control himself._

“Y-you were saying Captain? What do you need of me? Is there a problem…”

“Merely a missive,” her clips were short and curious. Bordering she wavered between humor and professionalism. The latter winning the outcome come the end, but it was a hard drawn fight. “But, tis from Eulmore. The courier wishes for your hands only, my Lord.”

The Exarch’s fingers drug over the flesh of his lips. Still love stung and throbbing. Spoken hands that pulsated about an emptiness. He should always wish for the presence of her to fill them.

“Yes, of-of course,” he nodded slowly. A roll of his shoulders to straighten and fortify resolve he did not feel. “Lead the way Captain.”

She turned on a heel, though Leporidae ears of shot silver flickered behind. Brushes of a side glance to catch the wearing of her Lord’s lip between his teeth.

“Forgive me,” he mumbled to Kalea. Voice almost breaking, for though small, it held so much weight. “Please, I…forgive me.”

Head bowed, the Exarch would retreated farther into the shadow that gave him some measure of distance. To the guise that kept his most precious pieces of a soul, from her. Knowledge was a heady and heavy thing. Secrets that would poison him in the end, and he alone had decided who would be choked on it. For both as Exarch and as G’raha Tia, space would hold no barricades when he came to saving her.

So he walked away and felt himself wrench asunder in the process. The strangled breath she released from his turned shoulder gave realization that the cracking sound that was ringing about his ears; was not something that he felt alone. Her eyes made of levin and life never left him. Not till the echo of footsteps upon metal rigging was made a distant memory.

Kalea’s brows remained furrowed. The hole in her chest made a little wider.

“So,” Alisaie began. Dragging glances that tugged at the corner of her lip towards the woman still pressed against the wall. “You and… _the Exarch_?”

The resounding reply was all force of eyes and no service of lips. Kalea ran fingers through her tousled mane, dragging at tresses to pull it away from a blushing face. High ponytail that gave her confidence that was nothing but hollow. She hated the feel of her own hair upon her skin. The memory of his fingers, both spoken and refracted in cool crystal, a buzzing that was the most potent of drugs.

“To be perfectly honest,” Alisaie continued in the vein that was both welcomed and annoyed. Watching as Kalea broke from the wall. Curves of her spine as her quick hands still messed with ties tangled in burnished waves. Clicks of heels upon the floor, Kalea would look down at the Aertheryte below. Though, in truth, seeing nothing at all.

“I cannot see it. Do you suppose he wears the hood to hide some deformity he wishes you to know nothing about? Or maybe tis the mystery of what lies just beyond that shadow that would be the reason I would find you trading breakfast with the man mouth to mouth. Twelve knows he would worship the ground you walk upon and…”

“Alisaie,” Kalea bit out. Tilted head and fierce eyes that gave no quarter. “Must you?”

The twin, though she was barely to brush alongside the edge of Kalea’s nose, wilted. A child made to shame before a cherished older sibling. Shuffles and rubbings along her forearm. The quiet between them stretched on for a long moments. Alisaie watching as Kalea ran calloused hands over her face. Leaning elbows along the metal landing, for the Warrior of Light feared if something did not support her in this moment, she would fall flat on her face.

“Do you love him?”

A sigh through the palms pressed to her sooted eyes.

“I don’t know.”

Alisaie worried the inside of her cheek. Kalea rarely gave away the cracks that covered her narrative. A woman usually poised and confident; for titles and a whole star’s expectations were a heavy thing. If she faltered, then what would the people who looked to her say, and do in response? How would they feel if the Hero of Light, and now donning a new title to add to her growing collection, showed anything other than unwavering resolve? Kalea was always so sure in her place about this story…save now.

How was it that a man with so much unknown to his persona, could topple Kalea to such extent that she barely stood on shaking feet?

“Do you want to know what _I think?_ ” Alisaie asked. A shot of violet color appeared between woven fingers. A solid look before Kalea revealed her face once more.

“No,” was the reply but its sourness was false. There was a small smile on Kalea’s face that made the Elezen give one of her own. “But, what’s the harm. Tell me.”

“I think…” she took a breath and looked so much akin to her brother in the moment, Kalea had to swallow her laugh. “That he is full of nonsensical words and pointless erudition. That he is far too kind hearted for his own good, which leads me to wonder how often the people of the Crystarium who were of not-so-solid morals, took advantage of his naivety! His voice could put a tantruming toddler to sleep, for who waxes poetic prose all while talking about rampaging monsters? Tis not that hard. You either stab it with a sword, or burn it to the ground. Even his wardrobe would be complicated. For how does the man have the time to buckle, snap and braid so many pieces? Though his arm bands turn out some rather - tantalizing thoughts. If I was to be honest so I can see why you had such a fascination with his hands earlier the way they were holding you and you were sucking his…”

“ _Alisaie_ ,” Kalea huffed out, a strange mix of exasperation and lassitude that could not be helped. “Do you have a point?”

 _“The point being…”_ she threw her hair off from the slope of her narrow shoulder. “He is far too loquacious, too benevolent, too intelligent and so self-sacrificing he would make it into an art form! But, I have known that man to be in love with you since the moment I arrived, unceremoniously on my ass, on his cold marble floor. And since you’ve arrived, he’s done nothing but orbit around you like a lost planet. Everything he does, everything he _has done,_ has been for you.”

Kalea pressed her lips together.

“He would make it…very complicated,” she replied and leaned down to rest her chin upon the weave of her arms. Still finding stable balance on the cold banister of the upper floors.

“Are not, all men like that?”

Another breathless, hollow laugh. “To be honest, I have such little experience in these matters I cannot give you proven answers. G’raha Tia was the only one who…”

As strong as Kalea was, she could not finish. Not when the sentence turned to ash on her tongue.

“Truly? Have there not been others? Alphinaud mentioned a Haurchefant. And what of Aymeric or Hien? Perhaps even…”

“None, Alisaie.”

“Most of the time, you seem so assured in these matters.”

“And most of the time, I would be. But…not in this.”

“Then what may draw you to him?” her friend queried. “Why waste your time on someone who would give you secrets and half-truths meant for your own protection? Do you not find such a thing exasperating? Why _kiss him at all when…”_

“I don’t know!” she almost screamed. A sundered sound that was both heard and felt. Alisaie blinked at it. “I feel as if I might rip apart because of it! At night I would dream of someone else, someone that _I love_ and then during waking hours…am I so callous and detached that I would throw myself at the Exarch for no reason? Simply because he would be a handsome _warm body_?”

“That cannot be it,” her friend replied gently. “You know that it cannot.”

“I cannot _help myself_ Alisaie,” she continued with strained pulling over the word. Drawn out syllables that would inflect her conflict. “I cannot help myself when I would be around the Exarch! But also because…” she stood at last. Tossed hair and shoulders that drew back. “He _is_ so kind hearted. Altruistic and generous. Because I find his lips and hands _maddening._ And I would rather hear him speak to me than most any other sound on this star. I _know him,_ Alisaie. Though, I can still give no concrete foundation to this ridiculous hypothesis of _why.”_

A growl pulled over teeth that disappeared like rain. Replaced with softness. Wellsprings from a soul that screamed aloud in a language still foreign and uncomprehended. But, Kalea was learning…and it would not be forever till she became fluent. “Because, all the parts of me – would fit perfectly into his own.”

“Is this…” Alisaie could not help herself. “A sexual innuendo?”

Kalea gave her companion a side smile, violet eyes finally finding some life about them. Flickers of stars that had been forgotten under dark lashes. “You would think so, but no.”

“Pity.”

“Mhm, yes I suppose it is.”

“Will you give up on it?”

The question was one she left hanging. A lift in the tonal quality that convey the challenge. Furrows of brows and sharpness of eyes. But, Kalea didn’t need the added resolution. For when she turned from that place, on the spin of heel and swirls of long hair that was to be her crowning aplomb, she was not the unsure young woman that wavered in the landing. Determination set into the snap of her teeth. The curve of a smiling mouth. A hero of starlight soulbound to this Prince of blood and ages. Whether knowing or not, the ardor was still all the same. Drawn taut, she welcomed the final touches on the wrapping of red, tied between them.

“Absolutely not.”

Alisaie laughed and grinned broadly in her wake.

* * *

“My lord, if I might inquire…what occurred betwixt you and the Hero of Darkness? T’would feel as if I almost could not breathe, for the atmosphere I chanced upon.”

The Exarch didn’t answer at first. His heartbeat still somewhat irregular, though pace was smooth and even. Feet that followed after his ward without second thought. Less to distract him. For his eyes, though hidden; would stare with all force of their sanguine color, at his crystalline palm.

The Tower had spoken and laid claim to him long ago. He had traded flesh and blood, for time and knowledge that G’raha Tia did not have. Become both mandible and unmoving shapes for what was needed in the years to come. Centuries were he’d kept solitaire in a fortress of isolation, and though many would spring up about him, the Exarch had always been the untouchable lighthouse they would set their course to. Alone in a sea of people. Save for Lyna’s small childish hand tucked into his, affection had become a fickle and distant thing. Like a fluent language that had grown stale and brittle, for who was he to speak it with? Memories. That is all they had become.

Kalea had asked how long it had been since someone… _touched him_ like that. With passion and ardour. The look as if he was as bright as the stars they would walk under. They could do that together. He allowed the daydream, for just this brief moment.

Allowing whatever subconscious thing there was between them to take solid root. Woven and weaved, he would relent to its sealment. Willingly. He would tangle her in his bed and not allow her to leave. Days. Nights. Such a thing would not matter when he might have her skin bare against his. He would worship her. Prostrate at her altar to give both unbridled desire and pleasure, to speak of his love and formulate any vow she wished. For if this was to be _his daydream_ then that is what he would tell her first. How, utterly and completely he loved her.

Adventures that had been stolen, swift from his trembling hands would be given second chance. Secrets discarded as one would soiled clothing. A butterfly to emerge from fading chrysalis. So that, when he might place a ring on her finger they would come as they were. Nothing more, and nothing less.

Kalea swollen with his seed. A kit to call him a name he had only given to his own father. Both their hair turning threads of ivory white; and he would watch as she would be just as beautiful when her face might convey all the wisdom they would learn together over the years. They would form and fashion a lifetime together. And when the time would come when aether would merge and render flesh anew, he swore he would find her again. He would always find her.

“My lord?”

Lyna had turned over a shoulder to peer at him. His prolonged silence a strange and weighty thing. When the Exarch lifted his head, lips parting in breathless surprise he found her gaze worrisome. Concern all about the corners of a lavender field. He forced the smile instead. For she couldn’t see the eyes that had grown damp. His reverie gone like smoke. Lost in his hands that were still empty.

“Nothing happened,” he replied evenly, though the shattering thundered in his ears. “Nothing at all.”

* * *

She vaguely registered that Alphinaud was speaking. She saw his lips move after all, but the sound was nothing but muffled. Random interjections where she caught words of importance. Alliances. Ascians. Mission. Cruciality. Subjects on which their future would hang, and she could focus on none of it. Wonderings instead about the Exarch’s stiff and resolute pose. The shape of his mouth. The way his hands looks encased as they were in bands etched by gold.

“Then perhaps we should think on the Sin Eaters,” his voice would be the only thing to cut through her fog. Flickers of lifted lashes on her face filled with thought. “Leave the matter of this Ascian to bed for the moment.”

Narrowed, she found the swallow at his throat. A bob of flesh and crystal. He was avoiding looking at her. Or at least, what she could recognize of his directional gaze. Nothing gave hint to how his own sanguine eyes would sway in location to where his Warrior of Light stood.

“I would fear that the danger of Lightwardens would give a more immediate threat,” he finished.

“Three more would remain,” Thancred crossed his arms. Pulls of leather that groaned as he stretched the tired lines of his neck. “Kholusia, Amh Arang, and Rak’tika. That is not a small order for Kalea to handle.”

“Indeed,” the Exarch nodded. “Especially when their precise locations are, as of yet, unknown. Which is why…I would purpose we divide our forces and conduct surveys, inquiries and the like of each region. Once we have found our quarry, we might reconvene to discuss how best to proceed.”

“If that is the case,” Alisaie interjected and stepped forward. Fixing the Exarch with an odd look that made him clear his throat. “I will take Amh Arang. I know the land well enough, not to mention I would look on the others there.”

“I have connections both in and around Eulmore that may prove useful,” Alphinaud thought aloud. “I might make for Kholusia, as long as there are no objections.”

“That would leave Rak’tika,” said the Exarch and the turn of his head was slow. Breathless was his voice, the quiver unrecognized save for those that would listen, when he addressed Kalea at last. “And, might I ask you to journey there? Y’shtola has taken residence there, and not only will she be relieved to see you I am sure, but with her assistance I doubt the Warden will evade your grasp for long.”

“Y’shtola is the conjurer you and Urianger would talk about?” Minfillia queried gently. Pulling looks away towards her wondering gaze, save for the Exarch and Kalea. Unspeaking they would connect looks tight on a thread.

“That’s right,” Thancred answered. “Though we haven’t spoken much since she left for the forest.”

“Ah, I fear I may be to blame for that,” the Exarch was required to look away then. A tinge of embarrassment and half cornered smile appearing. “I had every intention of relaying the news that Kalea might be arriving, but she is…disinclined to speak with me.” He opened a palm to Urianger, the question beginning to lay between them. “You have visited her, have you not? Might I trouble you to…?”

“Twould be no trouble.” Urianger smiled out.

“My thanks. And while you are all out in the field, I shall be here attending to business. I had somewhat fancifully contemplated joining the search in the Greatwood myself, but other matters demand my attention.”

He held up the missive. The one that had broken their morning’s interaction and turned it into existential crisis on Kalea’s part. She wondered if she might catch it on fire by gaze alone.

“An invitation from Lord Vauthry. He invites me to join him in Eulmore. To discuss the recent conflicts between their city and the Crystarium. Not to mention, there are ramblings about a woman I would keep to myself and a criminal artist I would be aiding and abetting. He is insistent that I bring them along before entry.”

The others were more vocal in their reactions, but Kalea would be still as stone. Though her eyes grew fierce at the implications.

“And? Did he even bother to offer any recompense?” Alisaie snapped. “It’s obviously a trap.”

“I should be surprised and a little disappointed if it were not,” the Exarch continued. “Nevertheless, I must seize this opportunity to speak with him, even if only a few words are exchanged. Though my power will be much diminished so far from the tower, it is a risk I am willing to take. Master Alphinaud, might I impose upon you to accompany me to Eulmore, after your reconnaissance?”

“Of course, I would send word after some measure of information would be obtained. However, what of Kalea and…”

“I will join you both after meeting with Y’shtola,” she spoke at last. “I will not let you go into the pit of vipers unguarded and unaided.”

“My friend, I would prefer you return to the Crystarium or even…”

“Do not argue with me Exarch,” her smile was full of bite. “If the missive does not allow entry save if we accompany you, then I would go.”

Those lips of his pressed together and she could _feel_ him thinking. A thousand things that he would roll over in his mind. But, after a long moment his shoulders dropped. Surrender about his broken laugh.

“Very well. But, I would direct you,” his voice would allow no room for argument and though she gave a small raise of her brows, it dropped something to her stomach. Flickers of fire that would trail along her back. “And I pray, beg you heed my instructions on this matter. As I said, away from the Tower my power will be diminished but, I would do anything to keep you safe.”

Guilt still was a constant companion, but so was the never ending _tug_ that would move her feet. He watched her…they _all_ did, but Kalea only gave eyes to the Exarch. Leaning forward, a rise on her toes and her lips pressed to his for that single moment. Surprised gasp swallowed by her own breath. It was more than enough to make his body flood like a live wire. As if he’d just sunk his teeth into shards of aetheryte to come up _alive._

“As would I,” was all she said before turning away. All poise and smooth lines when she stepped from the room. Though she could feel his hard stare wrapped like a cape at her back. Her own heart joyously loud in her ears.

Alphinaud blushed. A fierce streak of color as he stumbled about his shocked whisper.

“Wh-what is that about? Since when is Kalea and the Exarch so…so… _close?_ ”

“Oh brother,” Alisaie merely answered in a somewhat haughty huff of exasperation as she pulled him away to follow after her. “You just wouldn’t understand.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all, have no idea how much your love and support means to me. Yesterday, after a very hard day in the work related world - to read the comments and see the encouragement on this silly little fic made me just the happiest! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I tried a few new things and I hope to improve my writing even further.
> 
> Mahalo from my heart <3


	9. Thing of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This thing of darkness  
> I acknowledge mine.  
> ― The Tempest, Act V: Scene I

Even with the flood of light, the forests of Rak’tika were oppressive. Smothering. Choking and clawing at the throat. Limitless branches wove overhead to make archways that dappled their way, and Kalea did not need to know the ecosystem’s history to know that this forest was old. Primordial and ancient. As the breeze wandered through leaves, sound swallowed in its hush. 

“We have arrived,” Urianger gave aloud, wiping sweat from his brow. Glances over his shoulders to look at his companions. “Vast though these woods may be, they are, by and large, uninhabitable. Not so the swamps of Citia, however, whose sparse foliage permitted man a foothold.”

Kalea found her gaze drawing upwards. To canopies and crests of heights she could not see. “It reminds me, in ways of the Black Shroud. Though, never have they been so oppressive. The feeling of a pressing, ominous atmosphere. The air presses around on all sides.”

“Indeed,” Urianger agreed. “Formulations perhaps of a reflection existing on the First. Mayhaps even the towering giants that stand sentinel in Gridania could have become not unlike these, should such a set of different circumstances arise. If fates had proven unkind.”  
  
The steps were loud behind them, for he didn’t wish to hide his presence. Such fallacy was beneath a being of his stature. Character and worth presented even in the strides of his feet. Exaggerated and drawn out in lavish gait.

“No lands must remain beyond our grasp. Go forth. Conquer. Rule.”

Thancred would glare a hole straight through the Ascian’s back, turning him to ash if it was possible. They watched the Garlean throw dramatic cues towards the never darkened sky. Dappled on his pale face. Catches in his voice that alluded to false sincerity, not that he bothered to hide it.  
  
“Forgive me,” Emet-Selch said. “A sudden pang of nostalgia for those halcyon days. Exploring virgin territories, subjugating primitive peoples. All for the glory of Garlemald!”

“Lovely,” Kalea mumbled with sharp, furious eyes. “Waxing poetic about genocide.”  
  
“If you’ve brought your ivory standard,” Thancred spat. Always keeping Minfilia close, tucked to his elbow. “I’ll be happy to tell you where to stick it.”

“Can we not simply take a moment to enjoy the view together?” The man turned, slow on his heel. His melodious voice wilting. Though it was poorly paired with the roll of his eyes. “Or would you rather I spied on you from the shadows? Much more of this, and I may very well begin to regret my show of good faith.”

Minfilia rarely spoke in his presence and her voice, when it did, wavered. But, she found fit then, growing strength as she continued. “If...if you really want to stay, then help us fight.”

Thancred looked at her with surprise, but the Ascian was far more amused.

“Ah, the naivety and honesty of a child,” Emet-Selch grinned. “But...Mmm...No. I think not. I am an observer - nothing more. Even shielded by the shadows of these massive boughs, I feel the Light’s presence most keenly. To accompany you is taxing enough. And to fight? Completely out of the question.”

“If you are to be an observer,” Kalea raised an eyebrow. Her hands forever finding respite at her waist. “Then, you should be a silent one. The commentary is grossly exaggerated in its necessity. I wonder if you rather just like hearing the sound of your own voice.”

Emet-Selch turned his gaze upon the newly crowned Hero of Darkness. His smirk spreading.

“Can I help such a thing? That my melodious verbalizations are much more _refined_ than those in our present company? Or any company for that matter.”

Kalea didn’t deign a retort. Fierceness still kept in the corners of her eyes. Urianger muttered something under his breath and continued onward, quiet through tree and light dappled brush. Thancred’s large hand dwarfed Minfilia’s when they followed after, but the Ascian was looking at the Warrior of Darkness with muted curiosity as she brought up the rear. Keeping in step with her, through the wave of his long skirts.

“Shall we take this opportunity to get to know each other better?” he proposed, waving a hand. Ever one for perfected dramatics. “I imagine you have a great number of questions…”

“Truly, I do not,” her reply was cold. “Not any that you can answer, or that I care to ask an Ascian.”

“Come now, I would be an immortal being. Given to the rise and fall of nations. Powers, interweaving of the knowledge of mortal and such lesser forms is not too complex to understand and interpret. I should imagine you _thirst_ for such information. You seem a scholarly type yourself.”

“You mistake me if you think I wish to learn *anything* from you.”

“I remember a time when a young little hero would follow around others, hungry for answers to the world about her,” Emet-Selch sighed. As if perceiving the greatest of disappointments. Eyes sliding over to find her all the same. “What a shame to have lost such an innocence.”

“Was it not _your kind_ who formulated it into motion?” Kalea replied and tossed her hair from her shoulder. The conclusion of her rhetorical question holding tightly to its sharp bite.

“Of course, but I would have my reasons. Did I not suggest we discuss them so you not flail about, needlessly so? Just as I am sure you had yours to follow around a certain red-headed _cat_ too weak to carry a burden that was not his own."

Kalea stopped. A slow turn that was all force of her gaze. Layers of levin that snapped at her fingers. Furious it pooled in her blood like a weight. “ _How_ do you know about that?”

Emet-Selch merely shrugged. Finding something about the canopy suddenly more interesting. His chin lifted to observe it. “Would you think I would pass my days of immortality just lazing about palaces and whispering in royalty’s ears? I am a man of many talents, and as I so kindly offered to you, I would study those who would set themselves against me. Twas not hard to learn of _your_ past. Such care I have taken to know just who _you are._ I am hurt you would not even show me the same courtesy.”

“You do **not** get to speak to me of him,” she hissed out through tight, baring teeth. Her lip pulled over them before she stomped forward. Emet-Selch trailing still beside like a garrulous shadow.

“Duly noted of course,” he continued ignoring her continued silence and watching the light catch in the waves of her pulled away hair. “Shall we discuss instead where your motivations might come from? Single, reckless drive to pursue businesses that are not your own. Perhaps, of course we might make assumptions about the state of your childhood. Or rather the long-reaching ramifications of your father’s influence? I am sure between the two of us we could arise some rather intriguing suggestions to your psychological formulation. Such would be the case of the Hero complex.”

She did not stop walking, but Kalea’s spine grew solid and unmoving. Shoulders tight. “Thoroughness would be your credit.”

“As I originally stated,” he grinned. The delight in watching her squirm under his heel showcased on his teeth. Though she seemed a slippery thing to elude him. “Any fool could know their enemy. My point would be to understand.”

“The fool would also speak, and the wise would keep silent,” she replied in a dark voice. “Perhaps tis better you heed that advice instead.”

The towering Ascian bowed at last. All clean and fluid lines. Expert poise deemed from lifetimes of pointless political dalliances and false pleasantries. Kalea’s brows remained furrowed. Hardness sparking under lashes.

“Very well. Then I shall withhold the inquiry into you and the _Exarch's_ relationship for another time. Perhaps over tea instead.”

The snap of her eyes was a powerful thing, but there was something about their color that made him pause for just a moment. Smile spread and tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth. Licked about teeth. His sudden laugh made cold fingers spread about her chest. 

“What is so humorous?”

“Ah, nothing,” he replied and shook his head. Pressed fingers to temples and shoulders still rolling with his own amusement. “Pay it no mind. I am sure it will arise sooner or later. Either way, it will be far more interesting to witness when taken by an element of surprise - then if I were to just come out and spoil such matters.”

“You would be a proper villain,” Kalea snapped to which Emet-Selch merely inclined his head. Ivory threads dancing about lighted eyes.

“Your kind would never expect anything less, my dear.”

He said no more and Kalea praised the Twelve for it. Save for the breaking of dried leaves caught under feet, their group passed in relative silence. The hush of a poisoned wood drowning enough in their ears. It gave none of the comfort that the Twelvewoods did, for here unseen eyes would watch from every branch. This forest engulfed with light that laid its flesh to bare.

Kalea’s fingers itched for her cane the whole breath of their trudge. Till they found a tumble of smoldering buildings, a haunting refrain that was all minor keys in her ears. Their small party lingered in the middle of this construction graveyard, Thancred pushing at soot stained boards with his foot. She could not settle however, eyes forever flickering back and forth. Pricks and low whispers up her spine. 

“I see little sign of recent activity,” Urianger’s voice cut through the whispered hush and drew her attention. “Nor hath any meaningful progress been made with the reconstruction…”

A slow sigh and a wave oft towards the light shade of further looming trees. “Mayhap Y’shtola sought shelter elsewhere. Come, let us quit this place.”

She made to nod, but the sound caught her ears first. Brief moments where Kalea’s senses picked up the flutter of movement. Tail lashing, knuckles tight about her cane.

The great hulking Hrothgar was not exactly subtle. His confidence in the mass of people that she heard circling about them, taking away the need for quick stealth. “Surround them!” she heard him growl. Pointing at their assembly over the curl of white fanged teeth. The cane was already lifted in Kalea’s hands, but she replaced it with empty palms when weapons turned sharp at her companions. Furrowed brows, staring hard about them.

“These Sin Eaters!” the leader padded forward, voice measures of hard gravel. “They are not like the others!”

“And there would be a good reason for that,” Thancred replied. “Lower your weapons, please. We mean you no harm.”

A dozen whispers popped out. Each hissing like little flames. “How is it they can speak?” was a common exclamation thread among them. “It’s a sin eater trick! They mean to kill us all!”

“We are not Sin Eaters,” Kalea interjected. The eagerness about her face catching dapples of drowning light in its color. “We have come from the Crystarium seeking a companion of ours.”

“Perhaps they speak the truth?” Hesitancy crept into another man’s voice, but Emet-Selch was not amused. The roll of his eyes clear and telling enough.

“Oh for the love…” he muttered and Kalea’s gaze drug to his position just over her shoulder. “I had hoped that by accompanying you, we might come to understand one another, but all I have come to understand is that you have a knack for inflaming the natives.”

“Would you rather we put them to the sword, following the example of Garlemald?” Thancred snapped.

“You’ve committed the cardinal sin of boring me,” the Ascian continued undisturbed. “And so I retire to the shade.”

His snide smile was for the Warrior of Light alone. “Good luck.” The licks of darkness curled over sharp cheekbones and angled shoulders before he was gone. Void breaks in this bright world that hurt the eyes to look upon the contrast.

“There!” Another archer was whispering without regards to volume. “Did you see that one disappear?!”

“I cannot believe I’m saying this,” grumbled Thancred. “But I think I preferred Lahabrea.”

Softer footsteps this time, alongside aether that was washed and deep as a well. Kalea turned to witness the crest of her white hair catching pale light from shadowed trees. “Enough, Runar,” was her clip. “Report.”

Though the Hrothgar called her by another name, Kalea let loose a long breath. Relief palpable in her mouth, for the knowledge and recognition of another companion found _safe_ was a balm across tight shoulders. 

“We apprehended them as you ordered,” Runar was replying. “But...are you certain these are Sin Eaters Master Matoya?” 

“The intense light of the aether I saw was unmistakable,” Y’shtola said. Furrows of her brows like breaks in the curtain of her hair. “If not sin eaters, then _what?”_

“Tis passing queer that Y’shtola should mistake us for the enemy, is it not?” Urianger whispered to Kalea under his breath. Her lips parted in surprise. “Mayhap it hath been too long since last she beheld the radiance of thine aether…”

Kalea gave a one shouldered shrug, an unknown dread beginning to wrap fingers about her chest. Uneasiness spreading like ice up the spine. Urianger took the moment’s quiet to call out to their companion instead. Hands still raised in perfect surrender.

Master Matoya,” his voice took her attention at once. “Hath time truly made strangers of us?”

“Nay, I recognize you, Urianger, Thancred. And this is Minfilia of the First, of whom you spoke before…” narrowed eyes in a harsh gaze made Kalea blink rapidly. Confusion taking a strange root.

“Just so,” Urianger nodded. “And knowing as thou must that we come in peace, might I prevail upon thee to have thy comrades lower their arms?”

“First,” she took footsteps forward, the Hrothgar trailing after her like a shadow. Y’shtola’s limitless eyes found Kalea’s own, the unrestrained distrust rolling forth to flood the Hero of Light in perplexity. “Explain this other presence in your company. The one I know not. There is but one manner of creature in this world whose aether is suffused with such an abundance of light. Not to mention...the threads that would weave interwoven through it. _Red. Red as blood_ and eyes of scarlet. What do you bring here upon our door?”

“What?” Kalea’s voice reflected her bewilderment. “You do not recognize me? I know not of what you speak...red colored aether?”

“Mine apologies, Master Matoya,” Urianger cut in quickly. “But thou art mistaken. Before thee standeth our dearest comrade. Kalea...you would know her as truest hero and friend among us. Though, she has but recently arrived here in the First and it has been some time hence since last you spoketh to one another, not one but _two_ Lightwardens have already perished by her most puissant hand.”

It was as if while she spoke, the veil about Y’shtola was lifted. Eyes drawing wide and mouth parting in her final realization. “It...it cannot be…” whispered voice strangled at the end. Feet coming even closer to where Kalea stood.

The relief was palpable. Kalea didn’t move forward, backed into corners with sharp objects pointed in their direction, but her friend’s expression was concerning. A shock rippled about eyes and pulled at her mouth. Her fingers shook, like a quivering bird wing when they found solace at her mouth but it didn’t remain for long. 

“Master Matoya?” Y’shtola’s companion was interjecting with worried tones, but she shook him off. Ignoring the question that lingered in his voice. 

“Lower your weapons.” The command was soft, but no less forceful. She glanced at the Hrothgar with a snap, before sweeping washed eyes about the company still holding the Scions at bay. She was obeyed immediately, though hesitancy and apprehension still remained on brows and kept tight in eyes. 

“Forgive us this hostile welcome,” this new Master Matoya continued. It was strange, that even without the straight sights of weapons and unknown people breathing down their throats, Kalea felt no less unease. For Y’shtola looked at her as if she might see right through her. To all the hidden pages and pieces that were always guarded in secret. Kept close and tight. 

To have someone she considered dear friend look upon her as a foreigner. With unrestrained suspicion, Y’shtola’s lips pressed tight together to keep her own council. For even when Kalea opened her mouth to extend another greeting, nothing came out. What could she say, in the midst of all this light drenched madness, that could give proper inflection on having their friends all together again, only for this to be the reunion. That the air would be utter thick and close between them. Tension to be cut with a knife, or in such cases translucent eyes that kept judgement at the corners. It almost hurt to think. Something about Kalea cracked about the edges and left her throbbing. 

“Come,” the voice broke into her thoughts and washed them clean. “I would give you a proper introduction to Rak’tika and its people.”

The walk was silent. The continued expanse to grow like weeds between them all. It was a lonely realization and Kalea wished to be elsewhere. Far away and secluded from the shattering that seemed to be ranking through her. To escape from the calculating gaze of Asicans and friends who thought her suddenly a stranger. An ache for the fold of sheets and the press of a soft bed. Hidden away in shadows and tangles of muscled limbs that kept changing between flesh - and those encased with glittering crystal.

* * *

Sligherbough had been full of grief. Somber and hushed, yet it was the hopeful sort. The kind that longed to offer comfort, to press forward and look beyond the heavy hanging veil that was far too bright in the eyes. 

They were welcomed by the Night’s Blessed with soft, quiet smiles. In muted gestures and a language not given to mere vocalizations of absent prattle. Here, it seemed, that even words were not wasted and used idly. Like the haunted lives that cut out a living amongst primal and washed out elements, every semblance of normalcy was precious. Akin to the idea of the night’s sky they held so tightly to. 

Kalea didn’t speak as she walked among them. Even the fold of grass under her heel seemed too loud; clattered in her ears. They followed Y’shtola, now wearing the title of another, in her wake. The splay of dark robes to parallel the drapery the Blessed wrapped themselves in. Even the modest finery spoke of a night’s sky they longed to witness. Etching of metal akin to a spatter of stars they’d never seen.

The weight of their need was heavy upon her shoulders. Pressed and imperative.

She rubbed an arm absent-mindedly, thick tail a waving mess behind her. They drew curious eyes, the people still giving reverence and bowed at the Scions passing, formalized greetings that accompanied their generosity but Kalea felt jumbled and out of place in her armor of ivory and silver.  
  
It did not help matters that the bright confines of light from her aether were beginning to spatter through the cracks. Unseen by her own gaze, only felt in the uncomfortable way they pressed to the sides it drew her a wide berth. Kalea tried to shrug it off with a roll of her shoulders. Tosses of her dark hair, threaded through with fingers to mess nervously with the ends of her ponytail. She felt foolish all the same...the newly merited Warrior of Darkness struck mute by the judgement of a small miqo’te woman. Normally such things would not bother her, long having resigned herself to the knowledge that you cannot please everyone. A harsh lesson since childhood...but the Scions were different. It struck something deeper to see her friend so guarded. Closed and shut.

The chasm between herself and Y’shtola was growing ever wider, so Kalea tried to begin to sharpen herself in a manner of their necessity.

She had told the Exarch as such, all those days ago. A weapon to be wielded as needed. As the First needed. She would choose not to falter now.

In tunnels filled with cold blue light, Thancred regaled their travels in a graveled voice. The circumstances that had led them all to Y’shtola’s door. Under boughs of ageless trees accompanied by the shade of an Ascian slithering about like a snake. The relentless pursuit of Lightwardens the ever illusive finish line. 

When Y’shtola spoke of the Exarch, his penchant for cloaked secrets and withdrawn whispers, she framed Kalea with her gaze. Washed color under a furrowed brow, as if the words themselves would solidify the idea. Kalea, however, gave half hearted shrugs and hard looks back. Moving swiftly away from the insult to a man she was growing incredibly fond of (though she tried not to look too closely at the depth of such affection, lest she go mad), and back to the Lightwarden of Rak’tika. 

It was this knowledge, the existence of hidden monsters coated in dripping elemental aether, tucked away in ancient forgotten empires that Kalea mulled over and chewed on as she stared at the ceiling. Sleep fled and lost to her, though Minfilia and Thancred dozed easily enough in the makeshift beds about the room. The Hyur’s snores were unmistakable, even as they were muffled by a forearm thrown half-hazardly over his face. She admired the young girl’s resilience to sleep through them, and if her mind hadn’t been a jumbled assortment of emotions and fraying ends perhaps she could have ignored it.

As it was, Kalea threw off the blanket and padded silently from the room. Echoes of Y’shtola’s prior warnings clattering around her head. That the Night’s Blessed would be another woven laurel in her voided crown. The mantle of the Warrior of Darkness. Lofty words and heavy titles for a young woman who simply wished to _save them._

The anamnesis of a name now given over to remembrance...Runar had called her Minnine. And as he had spoken, trusted now to night’s sweet embrace, she was to become a studded star in Kalea’s sky. The collection of those lost, to live on etched inside her instead. They were heavy images. Haunting things that bordered on grief

The brightest was the image of a retreating back, his name hoarse from her crying mouth. From the _first one she couldn’t save._

Kalea ran fingers over her face, feeling strangely off kilter and drawing hollow. It was strange...but the further she seemed to be from the Crystarium, moved from the shadow of the Tower and _the presence that dwelled within,_ the more vivid the feeling became. Almost as if it would bubble up and choke at her throat. Claws of light that were staved off only by soft touches of crystalized hands.

The juxtaposition of such brushes against her skin where rainbows of color were made fractured. Just like the inner workings that tugged soul lines at her chest, wrapped tight fingers around a heart that was ripping in two. Kalea groaned and pressed ears to the fold of her dark, messed hair, bitterness caught in her teeth.

She was so sure...of nothing. _Nothing at all anymore._

It was infuriating.

The mark at her shoulder had been silent from the moment she stepped foot under the shadow of an ancient wood, but she wore it under fingers all the same. Her dreams made way to nightmares where she was lost to a white empty. Here, Kalea didn’t dream of G’raha though she was desperate to. To press kisses to the column of his throat and simply _breathe. Exist._ To find completion in the one person that mended and completed her. 

From the moment he’d taken her hand in his.

And yet...now it would mesh with a limb made of glittering gemstone. The other wrapped in cords of glittering gold. She hated herself for all of it.

“I tire of these games, Urianger. Why do you pretend you cannot see it?!”

Y’shtola’s voice was like a knife. Hushed and soft as it was, the fury was overlaid in tones that would _cut._ Kalea halted in her step as if ice had threaded up her spine. Curious to the argument that filtered from around the corner, she remained unseen. Pressed with flickered vulpine ears to catch the bitter tasting exchange. 

“The blessing may spare her the fate of becoming a Lightwarden...but you cannot be blind to the nascent corruption! She is not as she was in the Source!”

Kalea’s nails dug into the hard stone; grounding herself even as the floor was ripped out from beneath her feet. Urianger remained quiet, solemn and withdrawn. Without interjection, Y’shtola continued unabated. “I have no proof, but I fear that the light which poured forth from the Wardens was not negated at all. I fear it was _absorbed_ and that she has been suffused with their light.”  
  
“Though, I have given thought to this possibility,” he gave at last, hesitancy to edge along the outer lines of his voice. “I dare not speak until more is known.”

  
“You cannot be serious! Urianger, her aether is laced with something foreign and incredibly _powerful._ I am unable to give proper name to its origin, yet there are combustions within her. Tis on the tip of my tongue, and yet the color eludes me. Through the haze, I feel it some variance of _red._ ”

Silence again followed by a strangled and frustrated groan. “By the time you deign to enlighten us, it may be too late! If it is not already. The aether I speak of twines about her with tendrils set to bleed into her own. Tis _ancient_ and seeming primordial. Interspliced now with that from the Wardens - what manner of magics is this? Her _eyes_ Urianger, surely you have noticed…”

Kalea could hear the shuffle of feet, the slow sigh that spoke of exasperation. “I know full well, after all these years, that you have only the best of intentions. But, you are asking me to put faith in a man so _infatuated_ with secrecy! And now, with the arrival of our friend practically _coated_ in his aether and scent, tis more reason than ever for me to keep the Exarch at the farthest of distance.”

“Mayhaps thou suspicious will prove for naut,” Urianger replied at last. “The Exarch has, for an untold part, proven both friend and ally. Wouldst thou strive to perceive beyond the prejudices that seem to have, in part, blinded thy path forward -”

“Do not lecture me. I am not _blind,_ as you seem to have taken up residence in, nor have my other senses failed me. He would hang upon her like a disease! She would sooner have caught pestilence! Urianger, if he _laid with her..._ he would be the source of her corrupted aether. There is no other explanation…”

“Tis would be our friends affairs then. Would thou doubt a man whomst moved heaven and earth to ensure the survival of her existence? Dost thou not see the inner workings to halt untold calamity betwixt First and Source? If thou does doubt, doubt not his true affection for _her._ Nor, would’st thou be _blind,_ as thy have spoketh, to the salvation he done offered to Novrandt. Thou cannot deny extinction would have been this star’s fate, if not for his interjection.”

Kalea swallowed. Furrowed brows as the air snapped about her. She should make herself known...but the discourse between them kept her feet rooted to earth and stone. The words a wash over her ears, like a flood to drown her.

Y’shtola was quiet for a long moment afterwards. Stillness settling over like shadows. When she spoke at last it, her voice laced with final pleading. Ignoring Urianger’s prior exclamations with pointed ignorance.

“I have had my suspicions ever since the Exarch bade you speak that day, but now I _must ask._ The Eight Umbral Calamity and all that followed; everything you claimed to have seen - did you?”

Urianger opened his mouth to reply. Indeed, Kalea heard the shifting of his seat. The clank of metal that adorned him, echoing like bells in the silence. The folds of robes as he was to stand. 

It was the deep breath before the plunge and yet…

The clatter and panicked voices were many and numerous. The air to suddenly be thread alive and overwhelmed with the Night’s Blessed cries for help.

The Eulmoreans had come and with them, a lost conversation to which the Exarch and his secrets were pushed back to wait their turn in the corner of unspoken conversation between the Scions. The others flew into action immediately, and while Kalea strode at the edge of their heels - eyes hard and jaw set in a tight line, she could not get Y’shtola’s revelations out of her head. Growing ever crowded they joined the others in the tangled web that wove tighter.

Aether colored that was almost _red._

She pressed a palm to her skin and ran into the welcoming light of Rak’tika. 

Her mark _hummed_ under her touch _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your kindness, your patience and your encouragement has kept me going. To the Clown Car and the Tia Tribe, I owe you so much <3
> 
> Mahalo from the bottom of my heart.


End file.
